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Syrne Ransom’s 


BUILDING. 




BY HILES C. PARDOE 


THREE ILLUSTRATIONS. 





PHILLIPS & HUNT. 

CINCINNATI : 
WALDEN & STOWE. ' 

l88l. 



Copyright, i88i, by 
PHILLIPS & HUNT, 
New York. 








RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO MY DEAR CHILDREN, 
WITH THE BELIEF THAT THE PRINCIPLES OF 
HONOR, TRUTH, AND PURITY DELINE- 
ATED IN THESE SIMPLE PAGES 
WILL BE EXEMPLIFIED 
IN THEIR LIVES. 


THE AUTHOR. 





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CONTENTS 


Chapter pa ok 

I. Securing the Ground ii 

II. Uncertain Measures 27 

III. Foundation Principles 43 

IV. Consulting Models 63 

V. Consulting Models — Continued 75 

VI. Unexpected Helps 87 

VII. Downright Effort 97 

VIII. Other Builders 113 

IX. From Refreshment to Grief and back 

AGAIN 127 

X. Varied Experiences 143 

XI. An Episode 155 

XII. Difficult Achievements 171 

XIII. The Capstone 199 



Jllwstrations. 


Along the Juniata 2 

Dell Delight 103 

Twin Towers, or Chimney Ridge 120 



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EYENE EANSOM’S BEILDING. 


CHAPTER 1 . 

SECURING THE GROUND. 

I T was a lazy afternoon in the autumn of 
1808. Three wide-awake boys in their 
teens had been strolling the livelong day about 
the fields and woods at the head-waters of the 
blue Juniata.’’ * Surfeited with boating and 
fishing, they sat down to rest under an old 
elm in “ Dell Delight.” 

Beyond them, to the west, stretched the his- 
toric Alleghanies, with numerous shaggy peaks 
shooting heavenward in acknowledged sublim- 
ity. At their feet flowed the gentle river, upon 
whose bosom, till now of late, had scudded the 
birchen canoes of the red man, and which had 
echoed with the songs of the wild but beauti- 
ful Alfarata. The “ Dell ” itself was a thing 
of beauty — a very workshop of unseen artists. 

* See Frontispiece. 


12 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


The maple and ash, the hickory and walnut, 
the elm and dogwood, were dressed in their 
brightest tints. Bridgeton, just across the riv- 
er, with its picturesque background, and the 
twin rock-towers of Chimney Ridge looking 
down upon it in the full sunlight, was the seat 
of justice of H. County. It was also the 
home of the boy truants. With a passion for 
thrilling adventures, the lads had been beguil- 
ing the hour with numerous Indian stories 
which they had heard from others. Perhaps 
the most interesting one of all was told by 
Sylvester Mason, about the sacking and burn- 
ing of Bridgeton itself, shortly after it was laid 
out. 

It seems that a remnant of the Algonquins, 
which had been driven back from Central New 
York by the Dutch of the Manhattan Colony, 
had swept across the country near to Fort Pitt, 
and had ravaged the new settlements in West- 
ern Pennsylvania. For days they had hung 
about Bridgeton, “like lightning upon the 
edge of clouds,” and at midnight of a certain 
Christmas had swooped down upon the illy- 
protected villagers. Many were slain in their 
beds; others fled to the mountain fastnesses. 
The latter returned in a fortnight — having. 


Securing the Ground. 13 

in the meantime, suffered every thing except 
death — only to find their homes in ashes, and 
the charred remains of their neighbors and 
friends. Not wholly discouraged, however, 
they commenced the work of rebuilding the 
town. A company of Scotch-Irish from the 
eastern part of the State, on their way west- 
ward, were induced to settle at Bridgeton and 
in its adjacent neighborhood. The town soon 
recovered from its violent shock, and, lying 
upon the highway from the sea-board to the 
West, soon took rank among the most spright- 
ly of the colonial towns. 

The Indian stories over, the boys threw 
themselves upon the grass and slept. 

Byrne Ransom was now in his sixteenth 
year. Physically he was well developed. His 
head was large and rather finely ordered, his 
complexion dark, hair black, and a pair of keen 
eyes danced underneath heavily shaded brows. 
He was somewhat awkward in appearance, 
with loose morals, full of self-assurance, but 
withal a clever fellow among his numerous and 
admiring associates. He was an orphan. His 
father — an emigrant from the southern part of 
France — had died when he was but ten years 
of age. The grave of his mother was yet fresh. 


14 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

The grief which smote his young heart, as he 
clung to the coffin of his father when strong 
men bore it away, or which overtook him as 
he looked down into the awful grave of his 
mother, must remain forever unwritten. 

George Harding and Sylvester Mason were 
now undoing the works of parental influence 
and authority. Reared, as they had been, in 
the presence of dram-drinking and dram-sell- 
ing, the desecration of the Sabbath, gambling, 
and other vices, what wonder that their lives 
were steeped in guilt ! With Byrne it had 
been different. His early surroundings had 
been more wholesome. His father’s virtues 
had often been the subject of conversation at 
home, and his example held forth as worthy 
of imitation. The loves and sympathies and 
prayers of his mother were ever floating in his 
memory, and served in some measure to hold 
his evil tendencies in check. But of late he 
was changed. He had fallen into many evil 
habits. Strong drink was getting the mastery 
of his appetite. His trunk always contained 
two or three indecent books. He could handle 
the dice-box right skillfully, and sweep the 
stakes at the card-table with great readiness. 
He neglected the house of God, and laughed 


Securing the Ground. 15 

at the idea of becoming religious. Whether 
taken as to his own habits and theories, or in 
his associations, he was a subject of gloomy 
prophecies. 

We left the boys asleep under the elm. 
Byrne had a remarkable dream. He thought 
he was an old man. His hair was like the 
driven snow, his ears sullen, his eyes darkened, 
his step feeble, and he leaned upon a staff. 
His friends had deserted him, his property had 
been sold for debts incurred through the use 
of intoxicating drinks, disease had fastened it- 
self upon him, and the evil days had fully 
come. Wasted years stared back upon him 
with no gentle reproaches ; golden opportuni- 
ties lay at his feet like a cast-off harp with 
broken strings ; his conscience smote him as 
with a two-edged sword, while every thought 
bespoke his infidelity to righteousness and 
truth. Before him was the solemn judgment 
and the book of destiny. Memory and judg- 
ment and imagination were beginning to haunt 
his desolate spirit already, like so many ghosts 
of darkness. Eternity was to reveal all, and 
in unmeasured numbers. 

The overwhelming force of his apprehension 
was so violent as to waken him from his sleep. 


1 6 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

Behold it was a dream ! The sun was melting 
away beyond the mountains, and the damps 
of the evening were settling down upon the 
Dell.” Byrne roused his companions, and all 
hurried homeward. The dream was unmen- 
tioned. Its unhappy outlines and dreadful 
destinies, however, had filled his soul with un- 
utterable alarm. 

Since the death of his parents Byrne and an 
only sister had been living with an uncle. 

Thomas Ransom was a greedy, ambitious, 
and intemperate man. His selfishness knew 
no limit, and as for generous impulses, they 
found no welcome in his heart. The dying 
message of his brother, “ that he should be- 
friend his two children,” was being complied 
with in that semi-indifferent manner in which 
many good deeds are done, but which really 
extracts all of the nectar out of the doing. 
The home of Mr. Ransom was a cold spot. 
Love, patience, and forbearance — heavenly 
exotics — could not live in such a clime. There 
were fuss and energy and fullness, but the ab- 
sence of prayer and thankfulness and conse- 
cration which had always characterized the 
home of Nathaniel Ransom. It was nearly 
dark when Byrne reached his uncle’s house. 


Securing the Ground. 17 

and in a very self-complacent way he fell to 
doing his chores. 

“You villain, you! Where have you been 
all day?” said Mr. Ransom, as he came out 
of the barn-yard in a rage. 

“ At school, sir.” 

“At school, sir! Will you tell me such a 
barefaced lie as that?” and with an oath and 
a blow he sent him reeling to the ground. 

“ Get up there now,” he bellowed, “ and if 
I hear another word out of you for a week I’ll 
thrash you within an inch of your life.” 

Thomas Ransom was the last man to teach 
morals. His example was enough to break 
down any precept leading to truth or virtue 
which he might strive to inculcate. Well did 
Byrne Ransom know this, and so violence had 
made but little impression upon him. Having 
finished his evening’s work, he slunk away to 
his room without his supper, like a whipped 
spaniel. 

He little knew what a night was before him. 
Three several thoughts were chasing each other 
through his brain like unbridled steeds. The 
first was that of his early childhood and its 
precious associations ; the second, his numer- 
ous sins; and the third, his singular dream. 


i8 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

It seemed to him as if truth and honor and 
purity had girded themselves with strength, 
and had determined to have the mastery of 
his affections. But his “will” stubbornrly and 
sternly resisted their approach. Then he rea- 
soned with himself and said, “ Shall the tender 
influences which have been about me from my 
cradle be lost now in my youth ? Shall I for- 
get — in my sins — the prayers which have been 
sent up to God for me, and not try and have 
them answered? Shall I shut myself out of 
the society of my dear father and mother in 
that other world?” He could not brook the 
results of wrong-doing. He tossed about in 
bed, hour after hour, in great mental distress. 
His pillow was wet with tears. At last he 
rose from his bed, and, taking down from a 
shelf a little pocket Bible, he knelt down and 
said : 

“ I, Byrne Ransom, believing that no life can 
be complete without the daily help of God, 
and anxious to go back upon all that is sinful 
in my own life, do here and now surrender 
myself to Jesus Christ, as my all-sufficient Sav- 
iour from sin, and do plight to the Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost the effort of my life-long 
hours.” 


Securing the Ground. 19 

He kissed the book, and was free. A heav- 
enly calm swept over his moral feelings, har- 
monizing most beautifully with the change 
that had come over the face of nature by the 
ushering in of the golden sunlight. It was the 
first great victory over sense and self. The 
second was like unto it, namely, the fixed reso- 
lution to abandon his evil associates. 

Farmer Ransom heard the confession and 
the story of reform with much indifference, if 
not skepticism. He gave him no credit and 
no encouragement. 

Upon the outskirts of the village there lived 
a character who became a strong factor in 
strengthening and maturing the principles em- 
bodied in that night-covenant with truth. He 
was familiarly known as Old Ben. His skin 
was black, but his soul was as transparent as 
a sunbeam. He was small of stature, some- 
what bent, had a low forehead, only one good 
eye, and plenty of iron-gray hair upon his head 
and chin. He stayed in a little old tumble- 
down cabin at the fork of the road leading 
respectively from Bridgeton to ' Karson and 
Blackmere. He had been brought from Ja- 
maica in one of the vessels of the French Col- 
ony, which was located in Northern Florida, 
2 


20 > Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

under the management of Coligny. His South- 
ern master had had in his employ a witty old 
Irishman, who had become very much attached 
to Ben. Ben had added to his own peculiar 
dialect many of the Irishisms of his friend, 
Pat O’Daugherty. These would often crop 
out in his intercourse with others. 

Byrne’s first acquaintance with him was had 
at “ Hart’s Log Meeting-house,” some ten 
miles down the valley, where they had both 
gone to attend a religious meeting. It was 
Sunday morning, and the regular preaching 
services were preceded by an old-fashioned 
experience-meeting. Among the first to speak 
was the old black brother from Bridgeton. 
His remarks were rather desultory at first, and 
were likely to weary the patience of others, 
but he broke out at last with great emphasis : 

“ My dear bredern, I’se come a long dis- 
tance to dis yer meetin’. I didn’t come for to 
git any more ’ligion, but to git out on de great 
portico ob glory, and rejice and praise God;” 
and in an instant he was taking to himself a 
good old plantation hallelujah shout. The 
congregation was not disturbed by his actions, 
as they knew him to be sincere, and, although 
extremely ignorant, yet really devout. 


/ 


Securing the Ground. 21 

Byrne, knowing him to be from Bridgeton, 
had yet never been apprised of his being a 
professor of religion. On the way home Ben 
gave him a description of his flight into the 
mountains of the old Keystone State. 

“ Yer see, I was Massar Ludlow’s coachman 
for years. It was on de Good Friday ob de 
Lor’ dat dis niggah drove de missus and de 
young ladies to de ole stone meetin’-house, to 
heah Pa’son Jones preach de gospil. Ah, don’t 
I ’member dat day! De pa’son had for his 
subjec’ de jub’lee, de yeah ob jub’lee. Honey 1 
I ’member it jest as if ’twar yesterday. I sat 
out on de steps at de front door, lis’en’ mid 
all my ears. He sed Christ died to make men 
free. Free? sed 1. O, he’s preachin’ to dem 
white folk, not to me. Still, I heerd him say, 
Christ died to make men free. He whom the 
truf makes free, am free indeed. I got new 
light. G’wine home I was a preachin’ to my- 
self dat sarmon ober agin. Dat freedom mus’ 
mean de right ob way wid oneself — to pray, to 
work, to lub, to hab one’s own wife, to hab 
one’s own home, to hab one’s own chil’en. I 
tell yer, honey, de bells ob de jub’lee kep a 
mighty ringin’ in dese ole ears, an’ I prayed de 
good Lor’ to help dis ole niggah jus’ dis one 


22 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


time, an’ he did, all dat awful way from de 
cotton States to ole Pennsylvany” — here he 
sat down by the roadside, and broke out into 
violent shouting, “Glory be to Massar Jesus! 
he brot me all de way 1 ” 

The slave-holding parson had preached wiser 
than he knew. His black auditor had inter- 
preted his words quite literally, and, convert- 
ing his new ideas into resolves, and these in 
turn into efforts, old Neb Ludlow waked one 
morning with one less slave to whip, and God 
got one more free and simple-hearted worker 
for his vineyard. 

Ben was living alone now. His family had 
been so separated by the auctioneer that it was 
impossible for him to hear from them, much 
less to secure their freedom. He often ex- 
pressed himself, though, as “waitin’ for dat 
great gittin’-up mornin’, when Massar Jesus 
would help him find de lost ones.” 

Byrne Ransom spent many evenings in old 
Ben’s quiet cabin. He became an apt and 
ready pupil ; and although the lips which ut- 
tered the lessons were scarcely able to spell 
out the words of eternal life, the Holy Spirit 
had endowed th^m with power. Here he 
learned that simplicity and purity were forces 


Securing the Ground. 23 

in character, which might not be gainsaid nor 
resisted ; that integrity of purpose and strict 
adherence to truth were the only safe guaran- 
tees to a successful life. It was here that he 
found out the method of resisting the force of 
home associations, which were all too trying. 
It was here that those strong lights were kin- 
dled, which burned on and still on in the heart 
and experience of that mountain youth. 




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effort.” 


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Uncertain Measures. 


27 


CHAPTER II, 


UNCERTAIN MEASURES, 


The conditions of moral wealth are choice and effort.” 
HE monotony of Bridgeton life was brok^ 



- 1 . en one day by the stirring notes of mar- 
tial music. A recruiting officer was stopping 
at the mountain inn, enlisting soldiers for the 
war between Great Britain and the United 
States in 1812. The annals of the Colonies 
were remarkable for the courage displayed by 
the younger troops during the Revolution, 
and Byrne’s heart had been thrilled time and 
again by the stories of Bunker Hill, Brandy- 
wine, Trenton, etc. The persuasions of Major 
White seemed irresistible, and, before they 
were aware of what they had done, a half doz- 
en or more of youths were under the employ 
of the government. The company proper had 
been recruited in an adjoining county, and the 
names of Sylvester Mason, George Harding, 
Horace and James Cole, Thoburn Sears, and 
Byrne Ransom made up the quota. They 
were to be attached to the Third Regiment of 


28 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

Pennsylvania Volunteers, and were to rendez- 
vous at Philadelphia, prior to being sent to 
Sackett’s Harbor, New York. 

The war is well-known to have been brought 
on by certain acts of the British Parliament 
in relation to the rights of neutral nations up- 
on the high seas. By this measure American 
commerce was seriously interfered with, which 
caused Congress to lay an embargo upon all 
American vessels. This soon brought on a 
declaration of war and open hostilities. 

The Bridgeton boys knew but little about 
the origin of the war, neither had they cared. 
Their enlistment had been the result of a ban- 
ter by one and another; but by the time they 
reached the regiment and were sworn into the 
service, they waked to the real significance of 
their act. The “ Third ” had been recruited 
from among a rough and uncouth class of 
people. The battle news from the northern 
frontier was very unfavorable to the American 
side, and the regiment was likely to be trans- 
ferred to the naval service. Camp life had few 
attractions. It was a fatal school for morals. 
To be associated daily with men who had sur- 
rendered to every species of vice and yet re- 
main untainted, was a work which demanded 


Uncertain Measures. 29 

the most careful forethought and the most 
diligent watching. The squad from Bridge- 
ton were illy qualified to cope with such dan- 
gerous odds. 

It was a strange infatuation, certainly, which 
caused young Ransom to commence soldier- 
ing. His tastes, his habits, his. ambitions and 
desires, pointed directly opposite to such a 
life. The outlook was gloomy. Those bright 
principles of truth and virtue to which he had 
subscribed had hardly found a lodging-place 
in his heart until they were almost plucked up 
by the roots. What ridicule ! What profan- 
ity! What sneers and bitter words! His re- 
ligion was made the butt of daily sarcasm. 
Such were some of the cruel tests to which 
his faith and patience were put. The fires un- 
derneath that crucible burned strongly. The 
edge of that formidable weapon, satire, was 
whetted to perfect keenness. 

The boys were compelled to acknowledge 
that Byrne was the making of a good soldier. 
He was as brave as the best of them ; his sub- 
mission to military discipline was equal to that 
of any, and as for integrity and moral virtue, 
they knew him to be greatly their superior. 
His home-thrusts at their sins were as barbed 


30 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

arrows; his patient endurance of their per- 
secutions as points of steel. Upon his seal 
he had cut the words of the great Captain, 
Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” 
The voice of that Captain was ever ringing in 
his ears, for he had enlisted in another army. 
He had obtained a breastplate strong, had 
girded himself with a sword two-edged and 
trenchant, and bore a shield able to ward off 
the fiery darts of evil. 

But once throughout the whole campaign 
was he ensnared. The trap had been laid for 
his feet, and in an evil hour, and while haunted 
by those fearful appetites which pursue a mod- 
erate drinker, he was caught. But the very 
men who decoyed him, when they saw him 
reeling to his tent under the influence of liquor, 
wxre pierced to the soul. 

To himself the humiliation was deep. He 
was ashamed of his weakness. He upbraided 
himself for keeping such company, and resolved 
to come not again into the way of temptation. 

Laura Ransom was four years younger than 
her brother — sprightly, handsome, good-nat- 
ured. Many a romp had she with the Coles 
boys and others of the regiment when they 
were at home, and now in their absence she 


Uncertain Measures. 31 

sent them many tokens of her good-will in the 
shape of friendly letters or boxes of dainties. 
The boys all voted her a complete success, 
and wished her a genuine Boaz when once she 
would go a-gleaning with a double purpose. 
Her brother’s letters were always warmly re- 
ceived and gratefully acknowledged. They 
revealed somewhat the nature of the kind of 
life they were leading. 

'‘My own Dear Laura: I take the first 
good chance offered for writing you. How 
much I miss your cheerful words and presence 
I will not say. Distance does not divide my 
love, nor danger lessen my anxiety for your 
welfare. You would not think that a soldier 
would get lonely, but he does. Thoughts of 
home and friends and privileges left behind 
crowd through the mind in rapid succession. 
I was thinking last night, when on picket-duty, 
how early you and I were thrown out upon the 
world to form our character and to shape our 
destiny. O, to be alone in this wide world ! to 
feel never again the soft pressure of a mother’s 
hand ! to be denied the wise counsels of a 
father’s love ! Can we ever forget that gloomy 
day when auntie called us from our play and 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


32 

told us that father was dying? Can we ever 
forget how desolate our house was when we 
came back from mother’s funeral? O that I 
might have died and been buried too ! But 
hush, my heart ! God has kept us through all 
the weary way which we have traveled. He 
has lifted the clouds ; he has sweetened our 
cup, and bids us go forward. We must not 
sit down in doubt, nor waste our golden mo- 
ments in trying to build castles in the air — 
ours is a nobler aim. Laura, by those sweet 
dying words, repeated in common by our dear 
parents, “ Live for Christ,” let us act well our 
part. As ever, Byrne.” 

‘‘My Darling Sister: Could you only 
know what pleasure your cheery letters give 
me you would write more frequently, and fill 
every page and line brimful. The boys always 
ask kindly for you whenever they learn that I 
have a letter from old Bridgeton. Dear old 
place ! my heart often turns in that direction. 
Sackett’s Harbor is a rusty old town. I am 
about tired of this life anyhow. We have been 
guarding a lot of British soldiers for the past 
few months. They were taken prisoners when 
the ‘ Macedonian ’ was captured by that gal- 


Uncertain Measures. 33 

lant officer, Commodore Decatur. Long may 
the ‘stars and stripes’ float on the breeze! 

“ It is altogether possible that we will re- ' 
main here a considerable while, and that the 
greater part of the fighting will be done by 
the navy. In that department our govern- 
ment is greatly inferior to the enemy, but, 
withal, we are having some splendid victories. 

“ I was grieved to hear of uncle’s financial 
troubles, and hope that he may survive the 
shock. I do not entertain the kindest recol- 
lections of him, but still I wish him well. But 
dear, kind auntie, give her my purest wishes. 

I shall never forget her care and attention to 
myself and my only sister. 

“ I trust that uncle may soon begin to think 
of the true riches, be a little forgetful of self, 
and show that tenderness for others’ feelings 
which he always wants shown to himself. I 
do not have much sympathy for that notion, 
which is fast gaining ground among men, that 
money is the highest good. If these seeds of 
error, which are now being sown, do not 
produce a harvest in extravagance and dis- 
honesty in American society I shall be greatly 
surprised. 

“Your remark about Fred Green showing 


34 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

you such special attention was great news. I 
know you always regarded him in the light of 
a friend. Now that he talks seriously of unit- 
ing fortunes, the matter deserves some thought 
I ought hardly to advise you upon such an im 
portant subject. But you ask me about Fred 
To be plain, Fred drinks liquor; he is not 
careful of the society he keeps, neither male 
or female, and there are no signs of reforma- 
tion. He would not make a suitable compan- 
ion. You may think this the advice of a sage 
or an old fogy, but I have seen so many in- 
stances of misplaced affection, disappointment, 
and divorce, that I have concluded that love 
need not be so blind as people make it, and 
that a person should use a little ‘ mother wit ’ 
about that question, as well as others. But 
enough of this for the present. Send us an- 
other box. Those chickens were rare things 
for us to have. 

“ As ever, Byrne.” 

“ My Dear Sister : What in the world has 
stopped your usual flow of spirits? Your last 
was wretchedly dull. Excuse me now ; but 
Monema has proven false to you ; she has 
turned Mary against you. The course of true 


Uncertain Measures. 


35 


love never runs smooth, and I suspect that 
your information in regard to the matter is 
not correct. If you are certain that she in- 
tended to injure you, I think you are justifiable 
in breaking the friendship. But let not hope 
be driven from the field. To me life is putting 
on another face. I have been subjected of late 
to some severe trials. Our captain is very un- 
scrupulous, and has a special dislike to some 
of the boys, myself among the number. I find 
it pleasant, though, to be under the guidance 
of the blessed book. 

“The world formerly presented great charms 
for me. But I know it is deceitful. Its pleas- 
ures are only transitory and unsatisfying. Much 
that glitters is nothing more than brass — much 
that goes for friendship is but a cheat. A true 
friend is valuable to have. He can usually be 
detected, and a right estimate put upon him, 
by these marks : first, he should be willing to 
give another his due ; second, not be moved 
by envy or jealousy ; and, third, have the coup. 
age to stand up for one when he is slandered. 

“ In my short life I have found those to be 
the best friends who have been tried by the 
touchstone of the Gospel. There is a strange 
fascination about the Christ of the evangelists, 
3 


36 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


His words and spirit breathe a noble generosi- 
ty, and those who are drawn together through 
him generally maintain a friendship which is 
pure and lasting. 

“ Sister, the days are escaping. What we 
need is the rest of faith. The people say we 
are orphans. That is a cold word, and we both 
know what it means. But are we orphans ? 
Doesn’t the kind Father above lead us, and 
does his promise not assure us that we shall 
never be forsaken ? Surely such a Friend de- 
serves our love, obedience, and constancy. O 
that our lives may become as fragrant as the 
pot of Jewish ointment broken upon the feet 
of the Saviour of men ! 

Good-bye till we meet. 

“ As ever, Byrne.” 

Such were some of the noble words written 
by this soldier-youth in these early times. 
There were sentiments couched in those letters 
worthy of an older pen. But stern experience 
had been his teacher, and the lessons had not 
been lost. 

The sudden change from the exhilarating 
climate of Cental Pennsylvania to the malarial 
districts where they were now encamped was 


Uncertain Measures. 


37 

a severe test to the health of the troops. Soon 
after their arrival in camp three of the Bridge- 
ton boys were taken ill with typhoid fever. 
The physicians regarded the case of George 
Harding as serious from the beginning. Dur- 
ing the second week of the disease it was inti- 
mated that he must die. This was a terrible 
shock to the feelings of the boys. George was 
a prodigy in vice. His chances for getting and 
doing good were about as favorable as those 
of most young men living in a community 
where the Gospel is regularly preached. The 
same door of escape had swung open to him 
as to others ; but he had set his face as a flint 
against all the tender and gracious calls to 
truth from men and God. 

Some had sought to restrain the violence of 
his passions and to save him from the corrupt 
associations of the street, but all had been in 
vain. Even the reformation of his old asso- 
ciate, Byrne Ransom, had made but little im- 
pression upon him. Hardly a voter, he was 
hardened in wrong-doing. Now his young 
life was fading out. If kind words or wishes 
or deeds of his comrades could have brought 
back the health-glow to his cheek, or calmed 
his fevered brow, then had he speedily recov- 


38 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

ered ; for, with all their waywardness, they 
each possessed a kind disposition. But deeds 
of kindness could not stay the progress of the 
fever. The third week the crisis was reached. 
Delirium soon broke the power of conversa- 
tion, and it was evident that the die was 
cast. 

There were heart-burnings in that mess 
now, smitings of conscience, and promises of 
amendment. Especially did young Ransom 
chide himself for not pressing home upon 
George the necessity of being prepared for 
death. »He had tested the value of experi- 
mental religion, and knew that it was the 
power and wisdom of God unto the salvation 
of the soul. But he had lacked positiveness. 
He had relied too much upon the silent influ- 
ence of example to win others to the Saviour. 
He was too timid in speaking freely of his 
hopes and prospects for another world. Had 
he been more faithful to his trust it might have 
been different with George. 

The death-bed scene was one of deep an- 
guish. The young man labored under the no- 
tion, at times, that he was a criminal, that he 
had committed some dreadful act and was un- 
dergoing the process of trial at court. 


Uncertain Measures. 39 

He would describe the scene himself. He 
talked about the witnesses who were testifying 
against him. He whispered to his attorneys, 
who, he declared, were bending every effort 
to release him. Now he would burst forth in 
violent sobs at the remembrance of his aged 
mother, who, he thought, was present in the 
court-room, and now would repeat the sen- 
tence of the court or struggle to get rid of the 
officers of the law. 

At other times he imagined himself in the 
gay and festive scenes of some drinking-saloon ; 
he would laugh and chuckle as in some idle 
conversation, or rise up in bed and sweep his 
hand across the table by his side, as if gather- 
ing up the stakes of some well-played game of 
eucher. Hell itself seemed to be uncovered, 
and the infernal powers seemed moving earth- 
ward. 

So died this brave young man. He deserved 
a better fate, but his fate was of his own mak- 
ing, and now no power in earth or heaven 
could unmake it. With tears and regrets the 
soldiers of Company C laid him in the grave. 
Two stones mark that quiet place. 

The regiment was soon transferred from 
Sackett’s Harbor and stationed at Greenbush. 


40 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

The prisoners were removed thither, and, after 
the evacuation of Washington by the red- 
coats, were paroled. The war did not continue 
many months after this occurrence, and on the 
20th of November, 1814, the troops were dis- 
charged. 


The basis of all excellence is truth.’ ^ 


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Foundation Principles. 


43 


CHAPTER III. 

FOUNDATION PRINCIPLES. 

“ The basis of all excellence is truth.” 

L ost opportunities are seldom recovered. 

Fugitive moments have a strong self- 
will. And yet the past, as experience, may 
become the glad harbinger and dictator of suc- 
cessful well-doing. 

Byrne Ransom had been squandering too 
much time. He had wasted golden chances 
for self-improvement. He had made many 
resolutions to secure a better education, but, 
somehow or other, he was always disappointed. 
He had no trade, no education, no fortune ; 
and, worse than all, he had almost reached his 
majority. 

But he resolved to be no longer the slave of 
an ignorant mind. He would roam, as others, 
at will in the fields of science and history, in 
mathematics and belles-lettres. 

Naturally of a quick turn of mind, of ready 
utterance, and a good stock of common sense, 
which, after all, is the foundation of true great- 


44 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

ness, he had caught up the rudiments of learn- 
ing. His observation of men and things had 
also sharpened his intellect. Had some judi- 
cious and painstaking friend, some well-to-do 
Christian rusting out for the want of some op- 
portunity to do good, only taken this young 
man in earlier years and shaped his thought 
and habits of study — inspired him with a love 
for books and helped him into a liberal train- 
ing — the result would have been glorious. As 
it was, the wretched failure of somebody and 
the negligence of his own will, were sources 
of stern misgivings and unhappy retrospec- 
tions. And yet there were scintillations of 
genius, flashes of wit, and evidences of power 
within him which needed only the hand of a 
master to bring them into the sphere of gen- 
erous conquest. 

But what of ways and means ? His father 
had died poor. The sum total of money in 
the house at the death of his mother was four- 
teen dollars. From sheer necessity Thomas 
Ransom had given him a home. But as for 
furnishing means to give his nephew an edu- 
cation, that was an absurd proposition. 

Byrne’s army career, financially, had been a 
failure. His sister Laura was dressed so shab- 


Foundation Principles. 45 

bily that he had shared with her the little 
money he had left when he was discharged. 
But, without a dollar in his pocket, he was, 
nevertheless, rich compared with some young 
men I wot of — very rich. 

There are not wanting those in every com- 
munity who live in great expectation of inher- 
iting their father’s money, who are very com- 
placent with the fullness of their father’s ta- 
ble, can curl with much grace the smoke of a 
high-priced cigar, and talk patronizingly of 
men and things. For them the “ sociable,” 
with its quiet programme of quadrille and 
polka and schottish, its champagne and wine 
and sundry refreshments, or the ribbons of a 
smart horse, or the manifold indulgences of a 
fashionable watering-place, are more than wis- 
dom, wit, or religion. 

The smooth stones from the brook, with 
which missiles Byrne hoped to pierce the 
helmet of Giant Poverty and lay him beneath 
his feet, were well-defined ideas, well-conceived 
plans, an unconquerable will, and unbounded 
faith in the Father above. 

From Bridgeton to C., the seat of D. college, 
was about two hundred miles. A passage by 
the line of stages running thither would have 


46 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

been an expensive luxury to Byrne under 
prosperous circumstances, but, in the present 
condition of his finances, a thing not to be 
dreamed of. He made the journey on foot. 
By noon of the first day he reached the termi- 
nation of the great Pennsylvania canal, then 
constructing through the State, and spent the 
first night at the village of H. By daylight 
of the following day he was again upon the 
road, arriving at L. about nine o’clock in the 
evening. Thence he proceeded, by canal boat 
and by walking, for several days, until he 
reached his destination. 

It was Saturday night when he trudged, 
footsore and weary, into the antiquated bor- 
ough of C. There was but one person in the 
town with whom he was acquainted. That 
person was a maiden aunt, the oldest sister of 
his mother. In one of her visits to Bridgeton, 
when Byrne was a babe, she had said playful- 
ly to the mother, “You must train that boy 
for some useful profession, and if you send 
him to college at C. I will do my part by him.” 
Byrne’s mother had prayed that the line of 
her son’s life might be in the direction of ex- 
cellent scholarship and personal goodness. 

But Miss Avery had become reduced in dr- 


Foundation Principles. 47 

cumstances, and was now living in the suburbs 
of the town, making her living by washing for 
the students. She welcomed her sister’s son, 
and offered him boarding at the merest trifle, 
and encouraged him to go forward in his en- 
deavors. 

The following day being Sabbath, he sought 
out the house of the Lord. A plain structure, 
substantially built, standing in an alley-place, 
was said to be the house where the students 
attended worship. The preacher of the morn- 
ing was the Rev. Dr. C., one of the most elo- 
quent men of his day. “ Such a sermon was 
never preached in old H. County,” said the 
stranger as he walked home. “ If Uncle Tom 
could only have heard it how glad I should 
be ! I must tell him all about it the very first 
time I write.” 

The first interview with President M’Knight 
of the college was had on Tuesday morning. 
The doctor spoke feelingly to him, seemed to 
enter into the spirit of his determinations, and 
said that a good, brave resolution would cer- 
tainly win. He was accustomed to hearing 
such stories as Byrne’s, and was glad if he 
might remove a thorn out of the way of weary 
feet, or lift a cloud which had gathered over 


48 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


the spirit of the doubting. Fortune had 
thrown upon him most favoring smiles, and 
he sought to make others, less favored, to feel 
that his heart was beating in generous sympa- 
thy with theirs. 

The session had already opened. The col- 
lege was suffering temporarily from some 
financial embarrassment, and was not so well 
filled with students as it had been formerly. 
But additional arrivals during the week gave 
a more creditable showing, much to the satis- 
faction of the faculty. 

It may not be well to follow young Ransom 
in the earlier work of preparation, to watch 
him wrestling with temptation to abandon his 
project ; nor yet to dwell upon the necessity 
which drove him to do much drudgery about 
the building in order to make ends meet. 

At last he was pronounced qualified to en- 
ter the first class in the course. It consisted 
of about eighteen or twenty boys, ranging 
from fourteen upward. Among the number 
was the youngest son of President M’Knight. 

Ransom’s room-mate was a Boston boy, by 
the name of Theodore Austin, who afterward 
became a leading man in Western politics. 
He was the son of a Unitarian minister, of 


Foundation Principles. 49 

brilliant parts. Theodore had inherited much 
of his father’s genius, and had been reared 
under widely different circumstances from his 
chum. He was a great lover of novels, en- 
joyed the clandestine *eucher parties of the 
building, and defended with much emphasis 
the unorthodox opinions of his father. He 
was not destitute, however, of certain good 
impulses, which were ever cropping out in his 
association with his fellow-students — was a 
fluent talker, and a great wit. Notwithstand- 
ing the antagonisms of the two lives, the 
young men were strangely and strongly 
drawn together. 

It was the day after they had returned from 
their summer vacation, prior to entering the 
Junior class. The two were seated upon the 
old stone steps in front of the college, looking 
down upon the crowds in the beautifully shaded 
campus. 

“ How did you spend your vacation, old fel- 
low ? ” said Ransom. 

Grandly ! grandly !” was the reply. “ Our 
glee club was off on a water excursion to the 
Sicily Islands. It was the jolliest set of boys 
ever you saw, too. What we didn’t have along 
with us don’t belong to a voyage. What we 


50 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


didn’t enjoy in the shape of pleasure isn’t for 
boys to enjoy. We chartered the vessel our- 
selves, and every man was his own master. 
Our meals were just superb, and our amuse- 
ments just to our hand. We went to bed 
when we pleased, got up when we pleased, 
and fairly outgeneraled our own wits in de- 
vices for pleasure. You don’t find many such 
parties as ours in a life-time. We didn’t have 
any long-faced chaplain along with us, either. 
Every one did his own praying.” 

“ I guess there wasn’t much of that thing 
done ? ” 

‘‘ We weren’t overly pious, I assure you. 
But how did you put in the time. Ransom ? 
It was a good long vacation.” 

‘‘Well, you know, I always strike for the 
mountains. I’m a little like the eagle, I like 
the crags and silences and wildness of the high 
places. Of course, my sister expects me to 
spend most of my time with her. We had 
some grand rambles. We woke the echoes of 
the ridges and hunted up all the familiar spots 
of our childhood, marked the changes, and 
suggested to each other what might yet be. 
You know the associations of any thing render 
it doubly dear. So it is with my old home.” 


Foundation Principles. 


51 


“ But, Ransom, you ought to get out into 
the world. You’ve too serious a look of 
things ; your estimate of life is all too stern. 
What a man needs is gay society, high life, a 
general good time. Since we are in the world 
we must get out of it all we can. When we 
get into the next world (if there is any such) 
we must make all we can out of it. It don’t 
do to be too matter-of-fact, and to live as if 
we were afraid to say our soul is our own.” 

Not quite so fast, if you please. What do 
you mean by making the most out of the pres- 
ent world ? ” 

I mean that while we are in youth we 
should follow out the dictates of the mind as 
inspired by youthful ideas. We should gratify 
the desires we have, associate with those who 
are congenial to our tastes, and in general be 
regulated not by others, but by ourselves. 
Then when we get to be men, do the same, 
and so on — let death take care of itself. 
What better monitor does a man want than 
his own conscience?” 

Why, Austin, you astonish me ! What is 
life? The plot must be laid in correct convic- 
tions of duty to one’s self, his fellow, and his 
Maker. Your argument assumes that every 
4 


52 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

man lives for himself; that our lifetime is a 
period of self-gratification and pleasure. Your 
premise is unsound, your conclusion must be 
wide of the truth. The fortunes of eternity 
can never be made in eternity , the elements 
of strength, happiness, and well-being are the 
results of a pure heart — noble ambition, and a 
well-ordered life among men. Character is 
destiny, and he who would reap good must 
sow good.” 

“ You reason finely, Ransom, but I cannot 
see it in the same light that you do. I may 
change my opinion, but in the kind of life 
of which you speak there is too little snap.” 

“ Snap 1 snap ! Mistaken again. What can 
be better than correct, moral principles finding 
an exponent in the every-day life of an intelli- 
gent being. Can there be any life so valuable 
as that in which a good, enlightened intellect 
extends to the moral feelings the scepter of 
its protection ? Any in which the principles 
taught by the Saviour on the mount are 
woven into the very texture of the heart and 
life ? ” 

“ Why, Ransom, I didn’t suppose you were 
going to preach a sermon ! ” 

“ A game of cricket ! a game of cricket ! ” 


Foundation Principles. 53 

cried a dozen voices. Say, fellows, let’s re- 
new the old sport and the conversation was 
broken off quite abruptly. 

College boys, as a general thing, do not 
need a tutor in the science of tricks, and the 
trustees at C. had accordingly endowed no 
chair ” in that department. 

The union of New England blood with that 
of the Old Dominion ” was likely to produce 
a state of things which would require a degree 
of sternness not always found in college pro- 
fessors. The bridle of authority fell rather 
loosely about the necks of the boys at C., and 
the “ prep.” who succeeded in getting into the 
Freshman class without a double hazing was a 
fortunate fellow. 

Ransom was called to stand in rather an 
anomalous position in the mischief-making 
business, inasmuch as his room-mate was gen- 
erally a leader in such movements. 

He wouldn’t initiate any measure that would 
override the authority of the college or vex its 
guardians, and yet he was not going to be the 
tale-bearer of the class. His knowledge of 
plans and policies was all too full for his own 
satisfaction, and often brought him under the 
breath of suspicion. 


54 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

One day it was discovered that a verdant 
countryman had brought to town a load of 
cord-wood to be sold at market the following 
day. Luckily for the boys he had driven in 
the rear of the college building, and unhitched • 
his horses for the night. At midnight the 
wagon was taken apart, carried piece by piece 
to the flat roof of the college, put together again, 
and loaded with the wood. The Dutchman’s 
wagon was, of course, an object of great at- 
traction and merriment the next morning, but 
no one had done it. The Seniors were grave, 
the Juniors wouldn’t condescend to so mean 
an act, innocence sat upon the faces of the 
Sophs., and as for the Freshmen every lamp 
of that honored class was out exactly at ten 
o’clock. The deed was wrapped in mystery. 
The faculty were almost sure they could lay 
their fingers upon the ringleader of the move- 
ment, but concluded to let time itself tell the 
tale. So a delegation of three from each of 
the four classes was appointed to bring down 
the wood and wagon. 

The patience of the president and professors 
was taxed to its utmost time and again with 
these deeds of the night. The uninitiated 
greeny got his ducking in the “ big spring 


Foundation Principles. 55 

Uncle Salathiel Muggins was regularly locked 
in his rooms every Saturday night ; Toby 
got into the chapel, and Brindle into the din- 
ing-room ; and his innocence, the woolly buck, 
into the room of the chalk and blackboard. 
All this was material for the class historian 
on Commencement Day. 

In vain did Ransom try to correct some of 
these evils. It was like beating the air; nev- 
ertheless he compromised not his own self- 
respect. 

About this time the question of secret fra- 
ternities in connection with American colleges 
was , being discussed in the public prints, and 
there was considerable division of sentiment 
among the students and professors at C. 

The two literary societies agreed to hold a 
public meeting to discuss the subject. Sev- 
eral of the leading citizens of the town were 
to act as umpires. Old Library Hall was 
packed. The proposition was read : 

“ Resolved^ That the abolition of secret fra- 
ternities is demanded by the spirit of the 
age.’’ 

The debate was opened by Ransom. He 
argued that students were the wards of the 
college ; that any organization in which the 


56 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

proper officers of the school were excluded 
was subversive of the best interests of student- 
life ; that secret meetings contemplated late 
hours, opened the door to unwholesome eat- 
ing and drinking, and, in case of a conflict of 
opinion between the authorities and any of the 
classes, served to array the students by their 
oath to stand solidly together. As instances 
of the good effect of no secret fraternities 
upon the morals and discipline of youth, the 
Latin schools and gymnasiums of the German 
universities were cited. 

Arthur M’Knight spoke upon the negative. 
He pleaded that the genius of American ideas 
forbade the restraint of personal liberty ; that 
getting into college did not unman a man ; 
that the cry of the “fraternities” being des- 
potic was a bugbear to frighten the uninitiated. 

The subject was discussed pro and con with 
considerable earnestness. Indeed, the faculty 
who were present were asked to speak upon 
the topic, and availed themselves of the privi- 
lege to say a great many things which they 
had been itching to say for a long time. The 
affirmative got the best of the debate, although 
there were some strong points made upon the 
other side. 


Foundation Principles. 57 

But how the bright days swept forward. 

Four years gone ! ” said Ransom to his chum. 

Four years since we first met, and now al- 
most ready to be separated, and it may be 
forever !” 

“Yes! It does not seem so long as that. 
And how changed our class is ! There’s Mat 
Harvey got discouraged the very first year — 
discouraged when we were reading the ‘ Iliad.’ 
I wonder what he would do if he had to get 
out some of the lessons that Professor Lyman 
gives us now. And then there’s that flunky of 
a Masterman. I thought he’d just got out of 
the asylum when he came here. And Silas 
Small and Jim Osterhood, they soon drifted 
away. And poor Ned Heckle, whom we laid 
in the grave ! ” 

“ Only eight, I believe,” said Ransom, “ of 
the original class are to be graduated. It 
seems really sad.” 

Between Ransom and Austin there had 
never been a rupture. Their opinions did not 
always harmonize, and their habits were dis- 
similar; but they had no petty jealousies to 
annoy each other, no quarrels, no hidden hate. 
The clean-cut ideas of Ransom upon most 
questions had, however, made a marked change 


58 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

upon the opinions of his chum. He felt that 
he was a better man for having had daily in- 
tercourse with one who obeyed the great 
Master. Iron sharpeneth iron, so a man 
sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.” 
The great questions of ‘‘ personal accountabil- 
ity,” the “perils of procrastination,” and the 
like, had been talked over, time and again. 
But Austin had never opened up the secrets 
of his inner life to any living being. He cer- 
tainly had not been teased to enter the Chris- 
tian life, but right words had done their work, 
and a good example had been as a Damascus 
blade. 

It was a beautiful Sunday in May, just prior 
to their graduation. The young men had 
been to hear the Rev. Dr. Hosmer preach. 
His subject was “The Crisis of the Soul,” 
based upon the familiar passage, “ The harvest 
is past, the summer is ended, and we are not 
saved.” The good parson had driven the nail 
home that morning with tremendous effect, 
and the Holy Spirit had blessed the faith- 
ful effort. Dinner being over, Austin threw 
himself nervously upon the bed, and his 
manner plainly indicated that he was greatly 
agitated. 


Foundation Principles. 


59 


“ What now?’’ said Ransom. 

Nothing much.” 

“Why, there must be something the mat- 
ter.” 

“ O, I can’t describe my feelings. Dr. Hos- 
mer seemed to be preaching to-day at me. I 
wonder if he prepared that sermon especially 
for me. It suited me so. I feel strangely. 
O my sin and unbelief! What ought I to 
do?” 

“ Do ? Why, let us pray. The mercy-seat 
is accessible. We are taught to come humbly 
to it, yet with boldness. The Spirit is said to 
help our infirmities ; and, if we but come to 
God in the name of his Son, he will fully 
save. ” 

“ But I can’t pray. It seems as if I was be- 
set by the infernal powers themselves. Every 
thing looks dark before me.” 

“ It’s all very well for us to feel our sin — to 
know its enormity and guilt ; but we must not 
stop there. We must look to the Saviour. 
We must know his love, his power, his willing- 
ness to save, and to save us now.” 

The two knelt down together and prayed. 
And such prayer as it was ! such strong desire ; 
such wrestling; such perseverance. At last 


6o Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

the answer came. The poor man cried, and 
the Lord delivered him out of all his troubles. 
If the echoes of that old room had never been 
waked before, they were waked now as the 
humble penitent rejoiced in a risen and glori- 
fied Saviour. 


“ And evermore the waters worship God, 

And bards and prophets tune their mystic lyres, 
"Whilst listening to the music of the waves.” 



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Consulting Models. 


63 


CHAPTER IV. 
CONSULTING MODELS. 


“And evermore the waters worship God, 

And bards and prophets tune their mystic lyres, 
Whilst listening to the music of the waves.” 

“ The Naugatuck,” at sea. Sept. 20, 18 — 



O-DAY I embarked for the Old World. 


-L Is it so that I am to realize the visions of 
my early boyhood ? It seems to me that I am 
only dreaming; but no, the turmoil and con- 
fusion of the last two hours here at the pier 
have convinced me that it is all reality. As 
we passed out of New York harbor, and the 
home-land began to recede, I was stirred by 
strange feelings. 

Two hundred years ago only, the first En- 
glish eyes looked upon this goodly Manhattan 
Island. Hudson had been cruising along the 
coast from Maine to the Carolinas. When he 
sailed up the river now bearing his own name 
he declared that it was the most beautiful 
country in the world. A late author photo- 
graphs the scene with great power : 


64 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


“ The somber forests were shedding a mel- 
ancholy grandeur over the useless magnifi- 
cence of nature. No ax had ever leveled the 
giant progeny of the groves. Reptiles sported 
in stagnant pools or crawled unharmed over 
piles of smoldering trees ; the spotted deer 
crouched amid the thicket, but not to hide, for 
there was no pursuer; the streams, not limited 
to a channel, spread over sand-bars tufted with 
copses of willows. But man, the occupant of 
the soil, was wild as the savage scene itself. 
A vagrant, in constant warfare with his fel- 
lows ; strings of bells his ornaments, his rec- 
ords, and his coin ; bended saplings the beams 
of his house ; the branches and rind of trees 
its roof; dried forest leaves his couch, and 
his religion the adoration of nature.” But 
how sharp the contrasts to-day ! As you look 
upon the surging crowds, pressing hither and 
thither, in the metropolis of the United States, 
you say, “ What forces are lying in human na- 
ture ! How they push themselves to the sur- 
face ! ” Give man a chance and a little time, 
and he will revolutionize the globe. He will 
overcome all natural barriers — force his passage 
through any difficulty, and face trial and even 
death — so that industry may gather strength, 


Consulting Models. 


65 


literature take on better forms, and home com- 
forts be multiplied. He will make nature his 
obedient servant. 

September 26, 18 — . 

Salt-water notes must be taken on the wing. 
I made the last record in my Diary six days 
ago. I take back the ambitious words about 
man leading nature, and about her yielding 
such ready submission to him. I had never 
been upon sea before, and I have learned a 
few things. 

Suppose old Neptune gets mad, what then ? 
Well, you begin to get quiet and sit down as 
if meditating. If he gets very mad, you quit 
the deck and go to your berth. If he still 
rages, you pay him tribute. Any thing for 
peace. 

I kept myself shy of the passengers all day, 
and contented myself with the thought that 
the merry old god would, after a while, mount 
his dolphin chariot, seize his trident, laugh at 
the incredulity of the sea monsters about him, 
and in a jiffy sweep the waves into calmness. 
And so he did. I begin to feel like myself 
again. 


66 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


October i, i8 — . 

A full-rigged ship riding the deep, breasting 
a gale, or lying quietly at anchor, is a thing of 
great beauty and interest. It is only a few 
years since this line of vessels has been estab- 
lished between New York and Liverpool, and 
the “Naugatuck” is one of its noblest ships. 
To-day I accepted an invitation of an old 
ship-builder from Maine to visit the vessel 
in detail. I confessed my ignorance of the 
sea and of ships and the seamen’s language, 
and found his experience to be of great serv- 
ice to me. The “ hold ” was our first objective 
point, divided into the “ main,” “ after,” and 
“ fore-holds,” and the place where our miscella- 
neous cargo was stored. What a strange-look- 
ing place to a green landsman ! My friend 
was very kind in explaining the whole process 
of building vessels. His description embraced 
the laying of the “ keel,” the formation of the 
ribbing, the construction of the state rooms, 
and the various requisites of a first-class vessel. 
The “ sextant ” is an ingenious instrument for 
determining the longitude. I had an interest- 
ing conversation with the sailor at the binnacle. 
The nautical phrases, though, are a puzzle. It 
is with great difficulty that I can comprehend 


Consulting Models. 67 

the orders of the little captain to his boys in 
blue. 

October 3 , 18 — 

The real study of a ship, however, is human 
nature — the men and women and children 
who make up its crew and list of passengers. 
It doesn’t require much time to get acquainted 
with each other on shipboard. Friendships 
made thus often ripen into love and match- 
making, and the girl you leave behind you is 
apt to be the sufferer. I have tried to steer 
clear thus far of all matrimonial alliances upon 
sea or land. Some of my friends think it high 
time that I seek my fortune in this particular, 
but I mean to see something of the world first. 
There are four hundred passengers on board, 
made up from ten nationalities. That light- 
haired, talkative young fellow, seated near the 
mizzen-mast, is a native of Finland. He is 
somewhat of an adventurer. The love of ad- 
venture was instilled into him by his father, 
who took him upon a cruise in the Mediterra- 
nean and other waters when he was but ten 
years of age. He is humorous and entertain- 
ing. He can draw a crowd at any time, if he 
wishes to, and keep it as long as he desires. 
But America, of all other countries, beat him. 

5 


68 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


A Yankee girl stole his heart and won his for- 
tune. Her roguish eye indicates that she is 
pretty well satisfied with both. 

Five Quakers are seated opposite me at the 
dining-table every day. They are on the way 
to their yearly meeting in London. They hail 
from the dear old Key-stone State, and, of 
course, I soon became interested in them. 
They are really agreeable. If I were to make 
a distinction I should say the ladies were es- 
pecially agreeable. When they discovered 
that I knew a good deal of the origin and 
growth of their sect and of the terrible perse- 
cutions they had suffered, they seemed right 
communicative ; so that my information in 
regard to Byllenge, Penn, Lucas, and others 
of the denomination, brought me many a pleas- 
ant hour. There is much in the creed, char- 
acter, and every-day life of a “ Friend ” worthy 
of admiration. My intercourse with this band 
of gentlemen and ladies has not changed my 
opinion, made up years ago. What a variety 
of folk are here ! A few merchants seeking 
foreign markets ; tourists dreaming of ancient 
castles and cities in ruins, and of other an- 
tique remains, of smiling landscapes and snow- 
capped mountains ; scholars enamored of 


Consulting Models. 69 

German thought, and coveting the best chances 
of old universities ; artists, soldiers, health- 
hunters, all with a specific aim and hopeful of 
good. What a glorious gift is hope ! 

But I have been thinking of that other, 
though invisible, line which separates these 
peoples ; not profession, nor color, nor condi- 
tion in life, but that line drawn by the Creator 
— moral character. I am ready to conclude 
that within the narrow walls of this vessel 
there are numerous lives which, in aim, ambi- 
tion, and positive destiny, are as far from truth 
as is the heaven from the earth. I could wish 
each one that joyous uplifting of spirit in the 
Son of God which should at once and forever 
fix their citizenship on high. 

October to. 

The sublime in nature and religion we have 
to-day. It is Sabbath at mid-ocean. It is a 
day of golden memories, a day of real conse- 
cration, an emblem of the beautiful hereafter. 

I rose early, while yet the darkness was 
upon the deep. Up and out of his watery bed, 
full-fledged and willing, came the prince of 
light. How could we get on without his kin- 
dling beams ? Standing ’mid the silences and 
grandeur of the works of God, I repeated that 


70 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

inimitable psalm from beginning to end, ‘^The 
heavens declare the glory of God ; and the fir- 
mament showeth his handywork.” 

I was gratified at the religious services at 
eleven o’clock A. M. One of my Quaker 
friends read and expounded the passage com- 
mencing, “ They that go down to the sea in 
ships, that do business in great waters ; these 
see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in 
the deep.” His exposition was quite terse 
and elegant. The old man, with his broad- 
brim, seemed to think that it was his first, last, 
and only chance to teach salvation to the 
stranger, and he made the most of it. 

October ii. 

Who shall determine upon the life of the 
average sailor ? What sharp angles ! What 
stupendous vices ! From the dangers incident 
to such a life one would not suspect that enough 
men could be found to man all the crafts which 
put out upon the waters year after year. But 
Jack is no inconsiderable quantity in the body 
politic. Cut off from the blessings of refined 
society, deprived of the rights of citizenship, 
and ground down beneath the heel of a des- 
potism as violent and hateful as that of the 


Consulting Models. 71 

plantations in the Carolinas, what wonder that, 
as a class, sailors are so degraded ? 

Those attached to the “ Naugatuck ” are a 
hardy set. They, of course, understand their 
business. They can manipulate the lines and 
oars and masts with great skill. 

I have inquired of some in regard to their 
early life and habits, and found them disposed 
to converse freely. Many of them have been 
cradled in vice, have had a taste for strong 
drinks even from the breast of their mother 
and, without opportunity for education, have 
been thrust out upon the wide world to see 
what life would do for them. Somebody must 
bear the blame if these souls find not a pleas- 
ant harbor in eternity. Who shall rise up in 
their behalf? Who devise methods for touch- 
ing their sorry state ? 

What a fascination they have for the sea ! 
To them a landsman is a nobody. If, frpm force 
of circumstances, they must quit their ‘‘ life on 
the ocean wave,'’ they are disconsolate and un- 
happy. I am reminded of a sailor-preacher, of 
Boston, whom I heard preach four weeks ago. 
He said, ‘'A sailor never wants to be buried 
in the ground. He wants to be launched in 
the deep blue sea, where the coral rock shall 


72 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


be his pillow, the sea-weeds his winding-sheet, 
and where old ocean shall sing his requiem for 
ever and ever.” 

October 15. 

This morning our captain, by the aid of his 
glass, saw the English shore. I tell you there 
was rejoicing on board — a real sensation. We 
all crave a sight of land again. Our passage 
has not been unusually stormy ; but still most 
of us prefer the dry land. Several ladies of 
the company declare they will give the Atlan- 
tic a contemptuous and final farewell if they 
live to get back again to their native America. 

I feel grateful for the deliverances of the 
deep, and trust that the spirit of indifference 
may not be found in my heart in the presence 
of God’s wonder-working and benevolent hand. 

The mail delivered to us this morning indi- 
cates that French society is in a state of ex- 
citement. It is occasioned by a rumor that 
the great general at St. Helena is in a dying 
condition. 


“ In morals mneh depends upon an elevated 


standard.” 


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Consulting Models — Continued. 75 


CHAPTER V. 

CONSULTING MODELS — CONTINUED. 

“ In morals much depends upon an elevated standard.” 

Paris, May 20, 18 — . 

F rench character is a kaleidoscope. 

Viewed from any stand-point, it is full 
of contrasts, contradictions, beauties — a most 
novel and interesting study. It is about as 
important to know what to discard in it as 
to know what to imitate. Still, the wit, viva- 
city, and force of character manifested here 
among the middle classes are qualities to be 
admired. 

One is struck with the bold and even reck- 
less positions taken by the more thoughtful in 
matters of religious belief. So also the te- 
nacity with which they defend these positions. 
The Parisians, especially, regard themselves as 
born leaders, and demand the championship 
upon all fields, whether they win or lose. 

A certain vitality, a real recuperative power, 
attaches itself to this people. The desperate 
revolutionary schemes which have been at 


76 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

work from time to time in the history of the 
nation, would have rent into innumerable fac- 
tions and States any other nation in the east- 
ern hemisphere. 

The field of Waterloo is keenly remembered, 
and the great coalition of five European pow- 
ers against France fills every heart with a sort 
of contempt. The public mind soon reaches 
white heat when you speak of the late defeats. 


June lo, 1 8 — . 

The well-known anti-Christian opinions of 
Voltaire have found here a very prolific soil. 
Being a native of France, home-pride has given 
his works a rather wide circulation. Indeed, 
the “ premises ” of this voluminous author in 
religious matters have been pushed to their 
utmost conclusions. 

It is not an uncommon thing to hear the 
young men at their social club meetings re- 
solve that “ Immortality is a will-o’-the-wisp,” 
the Creator a “ monstrous myth,” man an ir- 
responsible creature, and the preaching of Je- 
sus Christ in the Judean corn-fields upon re- 
nunciation and self-sacrifice but the advice of 
a miser to a beggar. 

All this sublime twaddle is having its bale- 


Consulting Models— Continued. 77 

ful influence upon moral character. But what 
a lack of devout reading, devout thinking, de- 
vout doing, is every-where manifest ! What 
an absence of self-abnegation and true prayer 
among the young men ! The contrast between 
this spirit and that shown in England or 
America is particularly great. 

July 4 , 18 — . 

This is a halcyon day in my native land. 
All day I have been thinking of the pride and 
glory of that young, free, and prosperous Re- 
public. To properly appreciate it one must 
live awhile abroad. Without bias from birth- 
relations I think I can say no land presents so 
many possibilities to men as the United States. 

I am not sorry that the French colonies in 
the United States — so numerous and so liber- 
ally patronized — did not succeed. After two 
full years in this city and in the rural districts, 

I do not change my opinion of the French 
people. This is most emphatically true in 
matters of religion. 

I believe that the violence shovn to Chris- 
tianity from the days of the great Revolution 
until now, and which seems to be on the in- 
crease, found and finds its birth-throes in the 
strong desire that Christianity may not be 


78 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

true. But this is the common verdict of sin- 
ful men, whether educated or ignorant. The 
Gospel crosses swords with their lusts and pas- 
sions, and they hope and believe that it is all 
a myth. The reason why immortality has no 
existence with them, except in an imperfect 
brain, is because it is associated with the aw- 
ful ideas of heaven and hell. The reason why 
God does not exist is because his searching 
eye beholds the evil and the good. The rea- 
son why man is but the rhythm of physical 
organism, and Jesus was a mere creature, is be- 
cause after death comes a judgment, and that 
the Man of Calvary is to be the Judge of 
quick and dead. 

November lo, i8 — . 

What are the causes which have led to the 
tremendous revolutions in this ungodly land ? 
The changes have been most abrupt and pre- 
cipitous — from monarchy to republic, from 
republic to directory, thence to monarchy 
again, and so on through the years. Has the 
unfaith of the people in God and in man any 
thing to do with the matter? How is the 
Lord’s day disregarded ? How are the princi- 
ples of Holy Scripture satirized ? What licen- 
tious habits have the majority of the young 


Consulting Models— Continued. 79 

men ^ What trifling with things sacred ? 
What trampling upon parental authority ? 
How much of the blame belongs to Voltaire 
and his friends ? 

The plot of that man’s conception was laid 
in the dissolute theories and practices of his 
times ; his graphic delineations of character are 
but the reflection of the court of Louis XIV. 

How about his own life, so full of immorali- 
ties and prejudices ? Right here was laid the 
foundation of that great temple of unsancti- 
fied desire, at whose great shrine the French 
youth cast themselves without conditions. 

If the infamous fingers of Louis had been 
paralyzed when he was destroying that great 
charter of Protestant liberties, and filling the 
land with mourning and tears, how changed 
would be the face of French society to-day! 

But the good “ word ” of the kingdom was 
not to be totally destroyed. That which was 
buried in human hearts found afterward a joy- 
ous resurrection ; that which found its way to 
other climes yielded the thirty, sixty, and a 
hundred fold. My own dear America was es- 
pecially enriched thereby. 


8o 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


November 17, 18 — . 

How is it that the German reformation did 
not take stronger hold here ? I cannot but 
regret that some iron man did not do for 
France what Luther did for Germany. Prot- 
estantism here boasts of some honored names 
I know, some who surrendered their lives for 
the truths of holy writ ; but Calvin, Farel, Le- 
fevre, and men of that stamp, lacked in some- 
thing. For this God-blessed land there was 
wanting one bold, intrepid, and enthusiastic 
leader. 

To-day every other man you meet holds al- 
legiance to the holy father, the Pope. The 
nobility under Charles X. are most eminent 
defenders of that monstrous system of beliefs 
and practices. No scheme, great or small, for 
a more thorough propagation of Catholicism 
languishes in their hands. The throne and 
the altar are one and inseparable. 

As for the citizen classes, born into the 
Church, indoctrinated in its mysteries from 
infancy, they stand ready to answer its call 
at shortest notice. No sacrifice of money or 
principle is held too dear to be laid with all 
promptitude at the feet of those who are set 
for that religion. 


Consulting Models — Continued. 8i 

The lowest, or working classes, ever at- 
tracted by that which appeals to the senses, 
give a strong impulse to the religion of the 
miter and crown. This despotism in civil and 
Church matters is driving many beyond the 
ocean. Nevertheless, God be thanked, that 
some rich seeds were wafted across the Rhine, 
fell upon hearts here which have developed 
into strength and power, and are now yielding 
fruit. Some of my Protestant associates are 
noble men. I am so attached to several of 
them that I know it will be a sore trial to part 
with them, which I must shortly do. 


yanuary i, i8 — . 

French politics smacks of freedom, fraterni- 
ty, light. Quite a good trinity, by the way. 
But to be wrought up into a system, to be 
thrown out upon the body politic, and to get 
the victory in the nation, the divine Author 
of these noble principles dare not be ignored. 
His authority may not be set aside. 

I confess to considerable disappointment in 
this, the land of my dear father. I always had 
strong prepossessions in its favor. Its history 
has been my study for years. Lorraine is 
where my father spent the first twenty-five 


82 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


years of his life, and how natural that I should 
turn my eyes in this direction ! I could never 
make my home here. I have a surfeit of 
French society, civilization, and history. The 
first is superficial, the second Christless, the 
third bloody. 

In no land is the proverb, “Extremes meet,” 
so fully exemplified as here, the very birth- 
spot of the proverb itself. Glory is cheap. 
As a friend at my elbow suggests, the people 
worship their idol, to-day with all praise ; to- 
morrow they are willing to thrust it into the 
gutter; the third day they will take it out 
again and enthrone it in their very hearts. 

May %, i8— . 

Human nature, nurtured and led by the 
power of infidelity, or subject to the fallacies 
and prejudices of Jesuitism, presents a strik- 
ing contrast to that same nature under the 
reign of divine grace. 

How beautiful is a life in harmony with the 
Gospel ! 

In that gallery of portraits — the Hebrew 
Scriptures — are men and women of a splendid 
type. They are not perfect, nor does the 
Holy Spirit conceal their faults, but how were 


Consulting Models— Continued. 83 

they enshrined in the heart of the heavenly 
Father! How does their devotion to honor, 
truth, and general moral excellence stand out 
as a thing of real beauty ! 

Or, better still, look at New Testament char- 
acters — men who were known as pure and 
truthful by having been with Jesus; unlettered 
men who taught the people that purer lesson 
of morality and obedience in simplest meas- 
ures ; men in whom bitterness was changed to 
grace, and who denied themselves that they 
might help others ; in them self-seeking and 
jealousies were transformed into evangels of 
blessing. 

Even as the sculptor finds the highest type 
of innocence in the countenance of a little 
child, so, having looked into the faces of men 
of most cultivated intellects and politest man- 
ners, I find no such excellence as is manifest 
in the life of the Man in whose lips were found 
no guile, and who stood in the presence of 
Pilate without a shadow of fault. O that 
some kind ministry of heaven would put my 
own weak life' into sweetest harmony with his 
words and spirit ! 

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Unexpected Helps. 


87 


CHAPTER VI. 

UNEXPECTED HELPS. 

“ Pleasant surprises are messengers of love." 

HERE was a little incident associated 



-A. with the camp life of Byrne E!^ansom, 
which had followed him wherever he went. 

It was as beautiful as a sunbeam. Its out- 
lines were tinged with amber and gold. Go 
where he would he could not forget Sackett’s 
Harbor, where the regiment lay so many weary 
months, and where his boy comrade met his 
dreadful fate. 

A cheery and talkative girl had been in the 
habit of visiting the hospital from time to 
time. She came with such modesty, and with 
so many kind words and smiles, that the sick 
and wounded men were ready to forget their 
pain when she was near. 

Emma M’Pherson was the daughter of a 
wealthy and aristocratic merchant. She did 
not take to the vanities of high life ; she rath- 
er shunned society than courted it, and of 
late had turned her attention to those gentle 


88 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


ministries which do untold good to others. 
She sought a channel for her spare moneys, 
and deprived herself of many articles of dress, 
so that she might become more useful to those 
about her. She had found an open door in 
the village hospital. She furnished various 
delicacies for the sick, books, papers, maga- 
zines, etc., for the convalescent, sent her car- 
riage and driver to take them riding, and in 
other ways contributed to the healthfulness 
and pleasure of those who had enlisted in the 
service of their country. 

By some means she had been especially at- 
tentive to George Harding. She kept con- 
stantly at his bedside some beautiful flowers, 
and would often tell him touching incidents 
to relieve the weariness of the hours, and to 
cause him to be more patient in his affliction, 
and that he might find his true rest in believing 
the Gospel. 

She had not repeated her visit many days 
until young Ransom found himself admiring 
the strange girl, and making room in his heart 
for strong desires to know more of her history. 
But any attention upon his part or efforts at a 
better acquaintance were met by repulses. In 
vain did he endeavor to draw her out in con- 


Unexpected Helps. 89 

versation. She would talk to the sick and 
wounded or pray with the dying, but she 
seemed perfectly insensible to every thing like 
friendship-making. A stripling, wearing blue, 
and not out of his teens, found no resting- 
place in her heart for his fugitive, low 
glances. 

Ten years had swept into eternity. Those 
years were brimful of trial, anxiety, and toil 
for Sergeant Ransom. A strange spirit had 
guided his steps, and yet not so strange either, 
for it was the spirit of truth. 

As he embarked on the homeward voyage 
at Havre, on the sixteenth of June, he regis- 
tered his name in a good, bold hand in the 
record-book of the “ City of Baltimore.’’ 

As his eye ran over the list of passengers he 
caught the sight of a name which was as fa- 
miliar to him as that of his own. It was 

Emma M’Pherson, Sackett’s Harbor, New 
York, U. S. A.” 

The blood rushed to his cheeks. Could he 
be deceived ? “ Emma M’Pherson, indeed * 

Sackett’s Harbor ! Well, I guess I’ll know 
one passenger on this old boat and, so say- 
ing, he went into the ladies’ parlor. When 
their eyes met there was a smile of surprise 


90 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

and gladness upon each countenance. Both 
had grown older, but the changes had not 
prevented a mutual recognition. What rem- 
iniscences were called up ! What questions 
asked ! What wonders expressed ! What 
sallies of wit and detailing of experiences were 
indulged in ! 

Miss M’Pherson had been spending a year 
in Italy. Two years previous her mother had 
gone thither for the benefit of her health. 
While absent she had died and was buried at 
Naples. Emma, an only child, could not rest 
satisfied until she had found the very spot and 
made it fragrant with something more than 
perishing flowers ; for beneath those balmy 
skies, and in presence of that lonely mound, 
she had sought a complete affiliation with the 
beautiful and good, and was ready to give her 
life to any cause in which these principles were 
first and foremost. She would not complain 
of a Providence which had left her alone in 
the world, if through that Providence she 
might get nearer to truth. 

The interview of the parties was agreeable 
indeed. Fortune had thrown them together 
even in a foreign sea. What wonder if the 
ffre which had been kindled in Ransom’s heart 


Unexpected Helps. 


91 

years ago, but so rudely smothered, should 
begin to kindle again. 

Another interview, and still another, coming 
each time nearer to the “ main question,’' un- 
til finally the whole story was told. 

There are some strange adventures con- 
nected with youthful lives ; strange enough 
to make one believe that an unseen and supe- 
rior Intelligence handles the destiny of men. 
Surely it was a chain of extraordinary meas- 
ures which had linked times and seasons, 
arrivals and departures, detentions and sick- 
nesses, and the thousand and one contingen- 
cies of life, and brought thus together upon a 
foreign shore two friends of former years. 
Providential or accidental, this happy circum- 
stance had much to do with molding the fu- 
ture of two beautiful lives. 

The home-bound voyage was quite unple^is- 
ant. When they had been out a few days a 
terrible storm swept the waters. The ship 
became altogether unmanageable. The cap- 
tain almost lost his self-possession, and the 
brave tars were unusually alarmed. To add 
to the distress- and discomfort of the occasion, 
a water-spout poured out its contents upon 
the sea and created a panic among the pas- 


92 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


sengers. To still add to the disaster, the cap- 
tain is swept overboard and lost in the surging 
floods. If God does not soon stay the bottles 
of heaven, the valuable vessel and more valua- 
ble freightage will be wholly lost. Despair is 
upon every face. Fortunes are nothing now. 
Friendships, purposes, resolutions are but idle 
fancies. The one great aim and prayer is that 
Heaven might interpose and bring the speedy 
deliverance. Men prayed who never prayed 
before. Women wrung their hands and cried 
for help. When the storm spent its subtle 
forces the bright moon peered out of its hid- 
ing-place in the heavens and looked down in a 
quiet way upon the deck as if nothing had 
happened. 

As it is an “ ill wind that blows no good to 
any,” so when the vessel put back for repairs, 
and our young friends re-embarked for Amer- 
ica, a strange label was found upon the trunk 
of Miss M’Pherson, namely: Mrs. Emma 
M’Pherson Ransom. Two lives were now 
blended in one. Some days were spent upon 
their arrival at Sackett’s Harbor before they 
started to the mountains. 

It was the golden month of June. The air 
was redolent of flowers. The trees were 


Unexpected Helps. 


93 


dressed in most charming colors. Did the 
valley of the Juniata ever look more handsome 
than now? Never. Did hours ever sweep 
away more rapidly than those in which the 
old “ packet ” pushed its way through the 
landscape-stretches and along the ridges from 
the capital of the State to Bridgeton ? Never. 
Were there ever more joyous memories flit- 
ting about the threshold of youthful lives? 
Never. 

As the -‘^packet ” landed at the Bridgeton 
wharf it was nightfall. The dim outlines of 
the old town and its environs were welcome 
guests. A few familiar words to a friend or 
two, and the parties went up through Mont- 
gomery-street and over the hill to the resi- 
dence of Ransom’s sister. He had not ap- 
prised Clara of his coming, nor yet of his mar- 
riage. He thought a pleasant surprise always 
lent a charm to one’s coming. 

“ I wonder what in the world those extra 
lights mean in Clara’s house?” said Ransom to 
his wife. 

I fancy it’s an illumination in honor of our 
coming,” she answered. 

‘‘ Hardly that, I think,” was the reply of 
Ransom. 


94 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


_ ‘‘Ha! ha! I know what it is,” said Emma. 
“Your sister is as ‘sharp’ as you are. She has 
heard of our coming, certainly, and there is no 
surprise at all. The secret is out — I know 
it is.” 

“ Not so fast, my dear; but we’ll soon see,” 
and so saying he pushed open the door with- 
out knocking, and broke out abruptly, “ A dis- 
tinguished arrival! Honored guests! Hon. 
Mr. — ” He paused. 

It was a brilliant scene. Theodore Austin, 
his old college mate, was being joined in holy 
wedlock with Miss Laura Ransom. 

The scene which followed may be better 
imagined than described. No one could tell 
exactly what was the chief joy. There were 
laughter and tears, hand-shaking and kissing, 
while a right royal welcome was accorded 
the strangers from abroad. The climax was 
reached when old Uncle Ben came limping 
into the room, convulsing the house with his 
quaint and side-splitting exclamations. 


“It surely makes a difference whether we be- 
lieve or do not believe that our thought power 
and moral power shall or shall not be extin- 


guished. ” 


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Downright Effort. 


97 


CHAPTER VII 


DOWNRIGHT EFFORT. 


“ It surely makes a difference whether we believe or do 
not believe that our thought power and moral power shall or 
shall not be extinguished.” 



ELL, husband,” said Mrs. Ransom 


V V one day, “ don’t you think it about 
time that we should get down to solid work ? 
How you have been roaming around ever 
since you were born ! ” 

“ Now, Emma, you’re talking ! ” 

‘‘Of course I’m talking. You turned the 
sharp corner of bachelorhood long ago. Let 
me see ! You are thirty — ” 

“Come, come now! Don’t be judging me 
by the number of moons I’ve seen. Surely, 
that isn’t fair. There’s Charley Jenkins, with 
his money and fast horses and devotion to 
business — do you think I am ready to ex- 
change places with him? I like to have a 
man say something when he talks, and it is 
impossible to say something unless you have a 
little information.” 


98 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

But how does that excuse you, my dear ? 
O, I see! you pride yourself upon what you 
have seen abroad. But there’s something else 
to do besides gaping in the windows of foreign 
cities and observing the habits and modes of 
life of other people. And then a rolling stone 
gathers but little moss.” 

True enough, but how about the sitting 
goose never getting fat ? ” 

“ But, Byrne, I’m in dead earnest about this 
question.” 

“ And so am 1 1 A fine house well-furnished, 
a richly cultivated farm, fast horses, etc., are all 
very well in their place ; but breadth of view 
is better than all. So is a knowledge of men 
and things. Aren’t they, Emma?” 

Yes, I suppose they are. But then — ” 

‘‘ Then what ? ” 

Why, how are we to get forward in the 
world? We can’t eat books, and men, or 
knowledge. We shall need bread and meal. 
And how are we to get practical knowledge of 
men and things unless we get down into the 
heart of business life? And, then, we can’t 
always expect to have as good health as we 
have now. The world owes us both a living ; 
but, then, we must seek it. There is Tobias 


Downright Effort.. 


99 


Moore. He was thrifty, earnest, economical 
in his earlier life, and since his affliction he has 
been in as comfortable circumstances as before. 
He has something for the rainy day.” 

“ Well said, wifey ! well said ! Give me a 
woman for bottom advice and for taking care 
of number one.” 

“ Yes, and number two, too ! ” 

Yes, yes ! ” 

“ Well, you’ll make the money and I’ll save 
it.” 

‘‘ All right ! I wish I had a thousand or 
• two to give you now.” 

“ Wishing will not bring it, my dear. That 
particular ship which every body talks about 
as coming across the ocean for them never 
seems to set sail. I suppose, though, yours 
will soon be over now. You likely attended 
to the matter when you were in Europe.” 

*^And pray what have you been doing all 
these years, Madame Ransom ? What have 
you to show for your labor? It’s a poor rule 
that won’t work both ways.” 

“ O, you couldn’t expect as much from a- 
young girl like me, not very strong, nor blessed 
with as happy surroundings as some. A strong 

and vigorous young man, with an open door 
7 


loo Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

on every side, surely ought to outstrip me. 
And yet I profess to have steady nerves, plen- 
ty of courage, and some little common sense.” 

^‘Well, that last thing is a fortune, Emma, 
in. itself. And all that you have mentioned, 
and more too, is all true. And well did I know 
it all, long before I met you on shipboard. 
You see I couldn’t wait on my fortune to come 
over; I went after it, and brought it in the 
same vessel with me.” 

“Tut! tut! Byrne, talk sense. You are al- 
ways having sport at my expense.” 

The conversation ended here by the arrival ’ 
of some friends from a distance. If the whole 
truth were known, though, both Ransom and 
his amiable wife had been doing a great deal 
better than they cared to acknowledge or pro- 
claim. It is ever the nature of merit to be un- 
conscious of its real power. 

Mr. Ransom had been on the editorial staff 
of an English newspaper while on his tour 
through Europe. His tutor in mathematics 
had secured this position for him. It is true 
he had not been able to save much money, but 
he had managed to pay all his old school bills, 
and had something remaining. He knew it 
was a dangerous experiment to launch out up- 


Downright Effort. ioi 

on the sea of matrimonial life without some- 
what of a competency, but then that splendid 
chance for getting a splendid wife, he thought, 
might never come back again. So, taking it 
all in all, he concluded to take all the risks, 
and trust in the Father above. 

Upon the other hand, Mrs. Ransom, quite 
early in life, had fallen in love with landscape 
sketching and painting, and by constant effort 
had come to be somewhat of an expert. Since 
the failure in business of her father she had 
more than maintained herself by teaching 
classes of young ladies. 

The two, therefore, while starting out to- 
gether, all too late, perhaps, hoped, neverthe- 
less, to make up for lost time in the diligence 
with which they intended to apply themselves. 
To be competent in any line is to succeed. 

Bridgeton scenery was far-famed. There 
was associated with it all manner of variety, 
from the bold and romantic mountain views 
to that of the valley and plain, with their 
endless attractions and superior stretches of 
beauty. It became quite early a resort for the 
wealthier classes of P. and B. The New En- 
gland bridal party could not resist the pleas- 
ure that was in store for them in spending 


102 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


some weeks at Bridgeton. With Laura Austin 
as guide, they intended to compass the whole 
beautiful country lying in the vicinity of the 
town. 

What delightful rides were those through 
Wild Cat Glen, Madison’s Cove, and Wood- 
land Retreat ! What picturesque outlooks from 
the Summit House, Kittanning Bend, Fount- 
ain Inn ! What beautiful hours those spent 
in boating and fishing at Lake Le Moyne ; in 
the excursions to Lander’s Cave, Hunter’s 
Lodge, Chimney Rocks, Dell Delight, the 
great Indian War Trail, and nameless other 
secluded spots along the banks of the historic 
river. 

While roaming about one day in the neigh- 
borhood of the Flaming Spring, Austin and 
Ransom had seated themselves upon a ledge 
of rock overlooking the dilapidated village of 
M., and here, studying the picture rather mi- 
nutely, Ransom broke the silence by saying: 

See here, Austin, we seem to splice together 
pretty well; suppose we enter into business to- 
gether, and seek out our fortunes?” 

“All right,” said Austin. “ But what in the 
world shall we go at?” 

“ I think I have the plan. Bridgeton has 


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Downright Effort. 


105 


become in the past few years quite a town. 
I never dreamed that it would wake up from 
its Rip Van Winkle sleep ; but it has, though, 
and pretty effectually. I believe in time it 
will make a very flourishing city. It seems to 
me there is an opening here for a first-class 
daily newspaper. Do you think we should be 
able for’it?” 

‘‘Capital! capital!” cried Austin. 

“ O yes ! capital in more senses than one. 
Capital as an idea, and capital to give the idea 
some force. If we only had the money I 
shouldn’t be a bit afraid to risk the enterprise.” 

“ Well, that reminds me. Father was cast- 
ing about some time ago for a safe investment 
for three thousand dollars which he has in 
hand. If we could convince him that our en- 
terprise would succeed, and could borrow the 
money at a small advance, I believe we could 
make the thing go.” 

“ No doubt of it,” responded Ransom. “ But 
it would require very careful management, sharp 
calculating, and judicious living. Borrowed 
capital in the hands of greenhorns does not 
always net a handsome profit. If we should 
systematize our affairs, and agree to live strict- 
ly within our income, and then stick to it, I 


io6 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


think that in time we should succeed. If not, 
we might stick again, but in quite another 
way. Suppose you write your father and see 
what can be done.” 

“ All right. I’ll write him to-morrow.” 

The Rev. Mr. Austin was a man of great 
versatility of character. Thoroughly awake to 
the principles and maxims which guide men 
in business, he knew right well what consti- 
tuted the conditions of success. He had 
studied men as well as sermons. The young 
men were wholly inexperienced, and neither 
of them was a practical printer. Mr. Austin’s 
son knew more about spending money than 
saving it, or even making it. The young man 
Ransom was a comparative stranger. George’s 
letter didn’t strike fire. Some days afterward 
George arrived himself at his father’s home, 
bringing with him his buoyant bride. The 
two were so enthusiastic about the enterprise, 
and spoke so hopefully of the opening at 
Bridgeton, that the clergyman gave the firm 
the benefit of his doubts, and loaned them the 
money at four per cent. 

There is a strong fascination about a first 
enterprise. A few difficulties lie about the 
background of the picture, but lines of hope 


Downright Effort. 


107 

and promise and sunshine stand out in bold 
relief. 

The preliminaries connected with the work 
were soon arranged. A suitable room was se- 
cured, an outfit provided, and a few men hired 
to do the practical work. In a fortnight the 
“ Bridgeton Daily Argus,” in a neat prospec- 
tus, threw itself upon the community, a candi- 
date for popular favor — Ransom, as editor-in- 
chief; Austin, business manager. 

In intellect both were above mediocrity. 
Each had received a classical education. What 
was needed to develop their faculties was con- 
tact with men of the world in the sphere which 
they had chosen. The public was early com- 
mitted to the enterprise. It was the old story 
of ability commanding power. The paper was 
to occupy a great field. It was to combat 
many vices which had managed to get a strong- 
hold in that ancient town. Whisky-drinking, 
profanity, card-playing, idleness, cock-fighting, 
had created a wide-spread demoralization. The 
door of privilege stood ajar. Any might en- 
ter and devote himself to the work of reforma- 
tion. These youths were bold enough to press 
the door wide open, and seize the gauntlet 
which had been thrown down by the enemy. 


'io8 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

Their salutatory<»had in it the true ring; the 
subject was 

“JOURNALISM. 

^‘The growth of American journalism has 
been unprecedented in the last ten years. To 
forecast its triumphs would be impossible. 
Along the highways of thought, letters, and 
commercial industries shall ever and anon be 
found the evidences of its potential touch. 
American sentiment is a variable commodity. 
It could not be christened a commodity if it 
were never in the market. But it is in the 
market. It is bought and sold. As the ex- 
ponent of our political system, the press caters 
too much to the ambitions of party dema- 
gogues. A government such as ours — in the 
hands of the people — subjected to the sudden 
and violent changes of periodical elections, as 
well as to the sinister policies of designing 
men — such a government must have a safe- 
guard. That safeguard should be the editorial 
pen. 

“‘The Bridgeton Argus’ shall be devoted to 
correct principles as far as we are able to dis- 
cover them, and to men who will become their 
earnest exponents. We make but few prom- 


Downright Effort. 109 

ises. Our career shall be our trumpet, and a 
thoughtful public the umpire. It is not the 
purpose to publish a strictly religious paper, 
but we shall not blush to look, upon every 
question from a high moral and religious stand- 
point, not weakening the truth by failing to 
bring it to the biblical touch-stone but equally 
avoiding all cant and religious goodishness. 

We shall advocate honesty in trade, poli- 
tics, and the professions — honor among all 
men, sobriety of life, the abolition of negro 
slavery, and political equality in all these lands. ^ 
“ We give notice to political aspirants for 
office and all cliques, that our columns are not 
open to the highest bidders. We covet no 
man’s respect except we earn it, and no man’s 
money unless we give him a fair equivalent. 
Upon this basis we rear our superstructure, 
otherwise we prefer not to build. We ask to 
be judged by the touch-stone of an enlightened 
moral sense, and, if meritorious, to secure the 
sympathies of the common people.” 










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Nameless secret deeds, like bruised flowers. 


have a delightful fragrance.’’ 




Other Builders. 


113 


CHAPTER VIII. 

OTHER BUILDERS. 

“ Nameless secret deeds, like bruised flowers, have a delight- 
ful fragrance.” 

I N the swift escape of the years there had 
come into the home of Mr. and Mrs. Ran- 
som a half dozen of God’s choicest gifts. 
There were Maud and Nan and Frank and 
Guy and Oscar and Fred. Maud was the eld- 
est, a girl of sixteen summers, of slender 
build, fair complexion, and beautiful voice. 
Quite early she had evinced a strong passion 
for books. Observe her when and where you 
might, she was deep in some favorite author. 
Her mother often said if she should shut 
her up a whole month she would deem it no 
punishment provided it was in the library with 
enough to eat and drink. But she was not 
careful what she read. Her omnivorous ap- 
petite made no discrimination. From the 
Bible to the newspaper, old magazines and 
books, novels, poetry, biography — any thing 
at all so it was only in print. She was threat- 


1 14 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

ened more than once with a place among the 
nuns at Loretto unless she would change her 
habits. But the passion was there; read she 
would and read she did. 

Nan was her antipode in every thing. As 
good-natured and rollicking a girl as you ever 
laid your eye upon — always in a good humor, 
and withal a great romp. Her curly head 
was always in a swing, her keen black eyes al- 
ways in a dance. She was the friend of every 
body in Bridgeton, and had been on every 
ridge and hill about the town a thousand 
times. She would take her microscope and 
field-glass and hammer, of a morning, and range 
the w’oods and stroll about the streams, put- 
ting a new light upon things, perfectly obliv- 
ious of the work at home which she had left 
behind h^r. Of all the stuff from the woods 
and fields, in the shape of ores and stones and 
rock formations, which she had stowed away 
there was enough to interest and profit a town. 
She would much rather study Nature in her 
wonderful varieties than to eat a good dinner. 
Time and again she would get the consent of 
her mother to accompany the boys in their 
fishing excursions, when she would feel as free 
as a gazelle which has its home amid the crags. 


Other Builders. 115 

She could tear more dresses and knock out 
more shoes than any half dozen girls in town. 
Nor did any of them attempt to keep time 
with her in study or work or play. 

Once her mother thought she discovered in 
her traces of piety. Nan’s visits to the old 
garret attracted the mother’s attention, who 
supposed that her dear daughter went there 
to pray. Her heart was filled with gratitude. 
One day, however, her mother followed her 
quietly. What was her surprise ! Instead of 
a case of devotion it was a little private steal- 
ing. She was filling her pockets with dried 
apples, and had kept this operation going so 
long that the barrel was half empty. It is due 
to truth, however, to say that Nan was blamed 
for a great many things of which she was not 
guilty, as she became the scape-goat of the 
whole tribe. 

Frank and Guy were twins, chubby boys of 
about nine and a half. Oscar was still younger, 
Fred was in the cradle. 

The study of these varied dispositions was 
the constant effort of both father and mother. 
They intended that the lives of their children 
should, if possible, be raised above the possi- 
bility of failure. They sought to lead out the 


ii6 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

minds of each into that broad and wealthy 
place in which is found power and blessing. 
The word home was made to mean something. 
How to make that home paradise for the little 
ones was the supreme thought. Mr. Ransom 
had given special attention to the science of 
living, and had an elevated conception of what 
was necessary for a Christian home. An hotel 
or boarding-house, as a place to rear children, 
was to him contemptuous. The nonsense of 
much of the table-chat, the after-dinner dis- 
cussions amid the fumes of fragrant havanas, 
as well as the absence of those strong chords 
of sympathy which should bind people to- 
gether, made the proverb true, “ The reek of 
my own home is better than the fire of an- 
other.” Home meant more than brick and 
mortar — more than velvet carpets and damask 
curtains, or elegant furniture or frescoed walls. 
It meant the royal cheer of a good-natured 
husband, the ministries of a pure and good 
woman, the ringing laugh of joyous children, 
a well-spread table, the evening lamp, the 
hour of prayer, the pleasures of Sabbath, 
memories of years agone, the sweep of earnest 
effort, the blending of hopes and fears, and 
the charm of contented minds. Ah ! it was a 


Other Builders. 117 

real tonic to go to Grassmere. The house it- 
self was rather unpretentious. The architect 
had been governed rather by good taste than 
by a love of display. It stood upon a gentle 
knoll outside the borough, with a beautiful 
green sward stretching itself on either side. 

The Lawsons owned a magnificent residence 
near at hand, brilliant in its architectural dis- 
play and in all its appointments. It put Ran- 
som’s property far in the shade. But there 
was this difference between them : the first 
was paid for, the other was not. The one was 
cosy, tasteful, convenient ; the other had 
about it the air of a cheap aristocracy. The 
Lawson girls made much ado about polite so- 
ciety, fashionable parties, high-toned relations, 
the theater, etc. With the Ransoms it was 
not so. The father had come up out of the 
humblest walks of society. His parents were 
poor, but honest and respectable. Mrs. Ran- 
som had been reared amid all the charms of 
fashionable life. But there was in her a spiri 
of nobility. The two struck a golden mean of 
life, in which work is no disgrace but debt a 
consuming moth ; where work is deemed no 
drudgery, but idleness a crying shame. 

In the mistress of Grassmere there were 
8 


ii8 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

blended the dignity of real culture, the accom- 
plishments of a true lady, and the industrious 
habits of womanhood. It was her passion for 
flowers that gave to almost every room in her 
home a sweet breath. It was her hands which 
decorated the grounds with hyacinths, roses, 
geraniums, etc. Fullness, ease, good taste, pre- 
sided every -where. The family room was a gem 
in its way. There was plenty of sunshine ; there 
was a strong, beautiful carpet on the floor ; the 
furniture done in dark colors, a few busts of 
the old scholars, a few pictures, a pretty aqua- 
rium, some games and toys, and a cabinet of 
rapidly growing dimensions. 

It could not be otherwise than that, amid 
such surroundings, the characters of all should 
receive a tone and finish commensurate with 
the efforts put forth to make it so complete a 
home. Life is usually made up of littles, and 
the good we seek for others reflects its good 
upon ourselves. 

It soon became evident that Maud Ransom, 
now turned in her twentieth year, was not 
designed to lead such a life as would bring 
her into contact with the world. She would 
shun the society of her own sex, and as for 
beaus — well, she iietested them. Her father 



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Other Builders. 12 i 

said that he had no doubt she was to be that 
antiquated yet useful fixture at Grassmere — the 
old maid. It was to be her lot to serve all, 
see the younger members of the family disap- 
pear by marriage, and, launching out into the 
deep of an every-day experience, go forward 
or downward as the case might be. 

But her life must be freighted with better 
things. Her mother gave her instruction in 
portrait and landscape painting. Out from the 
hiding-place in the garret came the old table, 
the trundle bed, the broken chairs, to make 
room for the artist’s studio. Frank made her 
an easel, and the contributions from all the 
children furnished the means to buy the paints 
and canvas. A vein was struck which would 
lead to contentment and delight. She, in 
time, selected some of the choice scenery 
about Bridgeton for purposes of sketching, 
and seemed to enjoy hours and days in com- 
muning with the works of Him to whom she 
had already committed her time and life. 

For habits of industry she had but to turn 
to the example of her mother. Born with a 
strong taste for all that was pure in art and 
literature, she adopted early a course of read- 
ing in biography, history, travels, etc. This 


122 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


source of improvement became a thing of con- 
stant pleasure, and now, in the full bloom of 
womanhood, with multitudinous cares upon 
her, she found spare hours for gathering 
knowledge. With a ready pen, she was not 
slow to communicate the same. An outlet was 
readily found in her father’s newspaper. The 
profession had not as yet adopted the plan of 
paying for manuscripts, but as a stimulus to 
further effort, and, indeed, in order to get hold 
of articles upon certain subjects handled with 
such skill, many of her poems and stories had 
an ample return in ready cash. Out of that 
old plethoric portfolio, handed down as an 
heirloom, there are specimens of her literary 
labor worthy of recognition. Here is a song 
on 

WEAVING. 

“ O, I’m a weaver,” sang busy old Time, 

And his voice rang out in a dirge-like chime, 

“ I’m weaving the web of many a life 
With a woof of joy and a warp of strife ; 

My noiseless shuttles unceasingly run 
For the work of old Time is never done. 

As spring-time weaves in her carpet of green, 

Patterns of gold with azure between, 

Then gems them o’er with cups of pink 
Invitingly set for the bees to drink. 

And lavishes on the morn of the year 
All that is bright and all that is dear— 


Other Builders. 


123 


So when I weave for youth the bright strands ^ 

I lavish my gifts with careless hands, 

The wealth of gold, the crimson of joy. 

The blue of love — sweet, modest, and coy, 

I twine together in a carpet sweet. 

And spread it out for their nimble feet. 

But when for age my shuttles I ply, 

'Mong tresses of brown so cunning, so sly, 

I mix here and there the threads of gray 
Which have lain unused from day to day. 

And the joy-wreathed web which in youth begun 
Must needs be finished in bi’own or dun. 

And all the distorted and twisted shreds 
The tangled ends and broken threads. 

The work of tears and grief and sin, 

Ere the web is done, must be woven in. 

But my heart is hard, and I shed no tears 
O’er the dull gray web of wasted years. 

Yet moved at times to a softer tone 
By a strange, wild pity, all my own, 

I spread out the web when roses bloom 
A fragrant portion at morn or noon. 

And smile to see the anxious eyes gaze 
Loving and long through the tear-dimmed haze. 
And joy to note a strange light beam 
On the wrinkled face as of one in a dream. 

When the dream is sweet, and the fairest face 
Is seen again in its old-time place. 

Or after long years in crossing a plain. 

Where a gem which was lost is found again. 
Thus age on age my shuttles I ply 
While men are born — grow old and die. 

Untiring still in my ceaseless work 
In days of sunshine or cloud or murk 
Weaving the thread of many a life 
With a woof of joy and a warp of strife.” 




“ Beyond the river of Time walk the brave men 


and beautiful women of our ancestry.” 





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From Refreshment to Grief. 127 

CHAPTER IX. 

FROM REFRESHMENT TO GRIEF AND BACK 
AGAIN. 

“ Beyond the river of Tinie walk the brave men and beauti- 
ful women of our ancestry.” 



HAT home does not have unwelcome 


V V shadows thrusting themselves in upon 
joyous scenes? How dark and stern are some 
of the outlines of our b^st experiences ? What 
invisible fingers are these which change mirth 
and gladness into distresses sharp and peculiar? 
Affection’s chain, forged by kindness, tender- 
ness, and grace, is sometimes riven by vio- 


lence. 


It was difficult to determine the exact na- 
ture of the disease which had stricken down 
the versatile and affectionate Nan. 

When Dr. Raymond said that the symp- 
toms were alarming, the household was strick- 
en with inexpressible pain. Is the foe, whose 
love is a shining mark, drawing the bow and 
directing the arrow, so as to rob Grassmere of 
one of its brightest ornaments ? It cannot be, 


128 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


and yet she seems to be Death’s most coveted 
prey. The vacant chair, the absence of the 
merry, ringing laugh told a tale of common 
grief. 

To watch and wait is sometimes the great 
trial-lesson of life, and this lesson was practiced 
here, for at that bedside there was a constant 
watcher. Day and night the soft, gentle voice 
of mother was heard, and the footsteps meant 
help and good nursing. There were other will- 
ing hands and hourly ministrations, but none 
were so sweet as those which sprung from the 
heart of her who was at once a solace and a 
guide. The patient grew worse and worse with 
each succeeding day. There were two weeks 
of most intense suffering, and yet of compe- 
tent treatment, and then hope seemed to 
surrender to doubt. Gloom and silence held 
the field, when eye was cast on eye, as she 
said, “ You must give me up ; the Father above 
seems to call me to himself! ” Then there were 
noiseless steps and smothered utterances, while 
each praying heart uttered a cry that she 
might be spared. At midnight of that trying 
time came the crisis. Strange to say, it re- 
sulted for the better. God had taken that home- 
circle down to the very edge of one of earth’s 


From Refreshment to Grief. 129 

greatest griefs, and brought them back again 
with tears and gladness, a joyous, thankful 
company. The young convalescent was, of 
course, the subject of much inquiry. Her com- 
panions, like a set of soldiers without a cap- 
tain, wished her back to their circle with 
strong desire. Their wishes were not in vain. 

The long-continued efforts of Mrs. Ransom 
during the illness of her daughter had some- 
what impaired her health, which led her to 
plan for a visit to New England. It was the 
evening before her departure. All arrange- 
ments had been completed, and the trunk 
packed. The good-night kisses were given 
and the family retired early. In the morning 
she was not!” for God had taken her! In 
the stillness of midnight some heavenly visit- 
ant had borne away the spirit. 

From heights of happiness that household 
is thrust down into the silences of unbearable 
grief. The word of God had been for years 
the text-book of that home. The daily read- 
ing at prayer and the memory-verses recited 
by each had been the theme of many table- 
talks. Will the teachings of that old book be 
of any service now? Will its promises be 
available ? We shall see. 


130 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

Mr. B., the pastor of the church of which 
the Ransoms were members, had passed 
through a similar sorrow during the preceding 
year. His sympathies and words were full of 
tenderness. As he stood by the quiet bier 
he spake words of tenderness and hope. He 
said : 

Our great desire seems to be to get be- 
yond the power of mental and physical dis- 
tress. Riches may quiet our sufferings in a 
measure, and worldly circumstances may mod- 
ify our feelings under bereavements, but noth-* 
ing can stay disease or keep away from our 
homes that dreadful visitant which we call 
‘ death.’ His breedings over our households 
bring forth nothing but pain. Grief is in con- 
stant pursuit of us, dear friencis. With muf- 
fled feet and sullen accents he comes to cut 
asunder the tenderest chords of human affec- 
tion. The sense of sorrow at such times be- 
comes to many almost unendurable. 

“ Others, not guarded by the power of relig- 
ion, seek relief in strong drink, desertion of 
home and children, and sometimes in the fatal 
knife. 

“ In this sin-smitten world what force is able 
to resist thi? mighty current which comes 


From Refreshment to Grief. 131 

flooding in upon us. Let me ask whether it 
is not despair which gives the keen edge to 
sorrow with men of no hope in Christ ? Is 
not the fear of waking in the pit at last, be- 
yond the reach of hope and mercy, the bitter- 
ness of the worldling’s cup ? It is, it is. 

“ I will not speak of the loss of property, or 
of the disappointments and losses in business, 
nor yet of the overthrow of well-laid schemes. 
Most men will rally under such discourage- 
ments. But how is it with the stern and re- 
lentless hand of death ? What of the dreadful 
farewells of a dying bed? the distressing va- 
cancies in the charmed circle of home ? To a 
worldling the grave is the one spot of perpet- 
ual gloom. It is the horrid line of everlasting 
separation betw^een those who were wont to 
love. Such men may cover the coffin with 
fragrant flowers ; they may rear splendid shafts 
in honor of their departed dead ; they may 
beautify the place of graves with all the skill 
and finish of art, but an indescribable sorrow 
will settle down upon them — a sorrow which 
will not always yield to the pressure of cir- 
cumstances. Sorrowful memories and gloomy 
presages of the oncoming days haunt the con- 
sciences of those who fear not God. 


132 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

“ But he who trusts the Saviour is raised 
above this extraordinary gloom. If a beloved 
child is taken away by death, it is to him sim- 
ply the heavenly Gardener gathering a bud 
wherewith to make fragrant the palace of 
God. If his companion dies, it is the entering 
into the rest of Paradise. With failing health 
the mental processes are still the same. With 
the worldling the approach of disease is the 
beginning of dismay. He seeks the restora- 
tion of health in some more congenial clime. 
When that restoration does not come he 
thinks God unjust. He cannot brook the 
idea of dying. As one by one the days es- 
cape and the remedies are exhausted he hopes 
against hope, but refuses to die. While the 
Christian, upon the other hand, may make all 
possible efforts at recovery, he meekly submits 
to the will of the Father in heaven. He hails 
with gladness the triumphant hour. Before 
him stretch the illimitable fields of bliss, for 
‘ eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither 
have entered into the heart of man, the things 
which God hath prepared for them that love 
him.’ ” 

Such were some of the strong words of help 
and encouragement which came from the lips 


From Refreshment to Grief. 133 

of the religious teacher. They were not with- 
out weight. The Easter lilies which fell from 
loving hands into the open grave were sym- 
bols true of that which was believed by every 
member of the family. 

It was a tender and beautiful ending of the 
day, as in the twilight hour that broken circle 
lifted their voices in song. As each thought 
of a blissful reunion above, the words were few 
and the tones subdued. 

The first month dragged slowly forward, and 
the second and third. What weariness, what 
home-sickness filled those hearts ? The afflic- 
tion was so sudden ; the one was taken who 
could be least easily spared. Such are the in- 
scrutable ways of Him who doeth all things 
well. 

The management of home now fell largely 
upon Maud. She had much to learn. The 
anxiety increased as she thought of those who 
needed her constant oversight. She found 
herself impatient at times, and chafed amid 
the irksome details of every day. The chil- 
dren were granted a vacation of several weeks 
from school, and the visits of Aunt Clara 
were so agreeable as to give somewhat of 
buoyancy to all. Still, there was a vacancy at 


134 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

Grassmere which almost defied submission. 
To Nan the landscape had lost much of its 
beauty, the wild flowers were less bright, and 
the songs of the birds but plaintive cries. The 
boys wandered about the old home, trying to 
be contented, while every day little memen- 
tos came to light which revealed unfinished 
plans and broken expectations. 

The heaviest blow, of course, fell upon Mr. 
Ransom. The providences of his path had 
been pleasant in the main, and life had for 
him somewhat of fascination. He broke its 
monotony by following out his convictions of 
truth and obligation. A new sphere opened 
up before him. It was to help his children 
over the rough places of their way, and help 
them to pierce the veil of unbelief which, 
seemingly, would shut out the goodness of 
God. 

Efforts from others had only served to in- 
crease their trouble. Mollie Lawson, a senti- 
mental miss, undertook to condole with the 
girls. She advised them to make a trip to 
the southern sea-coast and secure a change of 
scenery and climate and society. She knew 
they would enjoy it and return greatly bene- 
fited. They would surely forget their trouble. 


From Refreshment to Grief. 135 

This “forgetting of their trouble” was the 
very thing they did not want to happen. They 
realized they owed their mother a great debt 
of gratitude, and there was now no other way 
for them to show an appreciation of her worth 
except by daily remembrance and daily grief. 
When she was with them, meditating their 
pleasure and active in promoting their happi- 
ness, they had not been so dutiful as they 
should have been. Now they will pay her 
memory heartfelt devotion. To Miss Lawson 
they made reply: “We cannot think of a 
pleasure trip at the present, but prefer the 
quietude of our own home.” 

“ But,” said the persistent caller, “ your af- 
fliction is one that is common in all homes, 
and cannot be helped. Casper Ray, you 
know, of Long Green, buried his wife about 
five months ago, and, lo and behold, I saw him 
last Sunday gallant Miss Dorothy Lucas to 
church.” 

Nan’s eyes flashed fire. 

“ Do you mean by that that my father will 
so far forget himself as to disgrace us all by 
that kind of work .? No, indeed ! ” 

She left the room in disgust, saying in a 
scarcely audible voice : 


136 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

What a senseless thing, to be sure ! She 
always was stupid enough, but this is adding 
insult to injury. She ought to have some re- 
spect for one’s feelings.” 

The next day after the interview by Miss 
Lawson, Aunt Peggy Morton called to see the 
dear, good, motherless children. She came 
over from Karsen in the stage, and was much 
fatigued upon her arrival. The girls thought 
it was a call, but it turned out to be a visit — a 
three-weeks’ visit. 

Your dear mother,” she would say, “was 
so nice. I allers had sich a terrible liking for 
her ever since I came from the Jarseys. She 
■was so like my old grandmother, dead and 
gone now this many years. Never will I see 
the like o’ her again and, so saying, she kept 
on knitting, all the while looking over the top 
of her spectacles to see how the “ gals ” would 
take it. She continued : “And suppose, now, 
your papa was dead, and you were all sick, 
and your house was sold by the sheriff, and 
you had to go a-beggin’ in this wicked world, 
wouldn’t that be kinder bad ? ” 

The young.ladies were too incensed to con- 
duct a conversation on that line, and went 
about the house rather morose. They were 


From Refreshment to Grief. 137 

wishing the old woman would get tired and 
leave for home. Fulsome praise they despised. 
Her remarks, anyhow, showed too great a 
familiarity with sacred feelings, and, taking it 
all in all, nobody had solicited her presence or 
cared for her sympathy. At last the golden 
hour for departure came. 

The leave-taking was rather formal. The 
old lady managed to say a few blunt things, as 
she kissed the dear, good children, which only 
served to deepen the disgust. The boys were 
almost violent in their expressions of gladness 
at the leaving, and old Carlo seemed to. catch 
the spirit, too, and bow-wowed after the stage 
as it passed out of the lane toward Karson. 

Mr. Ransom had heard of the attempts to 
ease the trial of his children. He looked upon 
all such efforts with disdain. Even the measure 
most generally proposed, of waiting until time 
should assuage the grief, was discarded. He 
had learned a better way. He resolved to 
make an open passage-way for each one to the 
only pure and enduring fountain of pleasure 
known among men. That fountain was the 
wo*rd of God. Often upon the highway of 
business and domestic care he had stopped to 
slake his thirst at these' perennial waters. Nay, 


138 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

he had camped beside the refreshment for many 
years. That Word had its origin in love — had 
been preserved through all the changing years. 
It had been to the generations the one blessed 
spiritual drink — free to all — flowing from the 
smitten rock, the Lord Jesus. It was compe- 
tent for any emergency. He must break the 
seal, so that the obedient waters might be a 
well of water springing up into eternal life. Not 
that his children were strangers to the Book, 
nor yet that they were anywise unbelieving as 
to its teachings. Mrs. Ransom had been in 
the habit of taking her children to her chamber, 
and of trying to impress upon their minds the 
nature of its teachings, and the necessity of 
adopting the Bible as the safeguard of their 
every-day life. But they had never learned to 
trust in the hour of temptation and trial upon 
the naked promise of God. That required an 
act of faith to which they were comparative 
strangers. How shall the sayings of Jesus be 
the only stay of these hearts? How shall they 
prove to be the undergirding principles in the 
erection of character? How? The authority 
and confidence of a personal experience in the 
things of God were the means. 

And now the words which had been read, 


From Refreshment to Grief. 139 

and, indeed, committed to memory, took on 
new forms of love and power. Words which 
once seemed beautiful were now forceful. Invi- 
tations and promises which once were dull and 
meaningless were now wrought into pure gold. 

The plan for accomplishing the end was 
this : The promises of God to his own chil- 
dren were classified. Such as related to be- 
reavement and trial and personal affliction 
were dwelt upon daily. One of these sublime 
promises would be made the theme of medita- 
tion for a certain day, and at the family gath- 
ering in the evening the thoughts which had 
sprung up in the minds would be mentioned. 
The following day the effort would be repeated, 
but with a different promise. O what new joy 
was theirs, as in prayer each was entitled to 
an inheritance in those wonderful words, ‘*As 
one whom his mother comforteth, so the Lord 
comforteth his people;” or yet that other pre- 
cious morsel, “ In all their afflictions he was 
afflicted, and the angel of his presence alone 
did lead them.” 

The key of joy hung at the girdle of the 
least, and the store-house of abundant bless- 
ing was reached by all without price — without 
molestation. 



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Varied Experiences. 


43 


CHAPTER X. 


VARIED EXPERIENCES. 

' When sorrows come, they come not single spies, 

But in battalions.” 

HE earliest settlements of the beautiful 



and romantic town of Bridgeton were 
made about the year 1768. For many years it 
had had the ordinary fortunes of most inland 
towns. Starting with the cabin of the Simp- 
son brothers, it gradually acquired strength 
until it became a large-sized village. The 
population was at no time large, and usually 
variable. The people were well-to-do, but had 
only slight desires for education. A few man- 
ufacturing enterprises had been projected by 
Lawson and others, and an influx of mechanics 
from the eastern counties had given somewhat 
of a business air to the place. 

An extensive and productive farming com- 
munity was lying adjacent to the town upon 
the east and north, and, at no great distance, 
the fair fields of Madison’s Cove waved their 
rich and golden harvests. Bridgeton was the 


144 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

chief outlet to this agricultural region, and be- 
came in time, through its shipments of grains 
and other produce eastward, a desirable place 
in which to live. 

Some time prior to the organization of the 
firm of Ransom & Austin, the great line of 
communication to the Western States and ter- 
ritories was opened up. The singular passage 
over the great Alleghanies by rail, and the broad 
and fertile prairies of the West being free to 
all, it was evident that Bridgeton must, by ac- 
cident of location, become famous. The tide 
of emigration set in steadily toward the setting 
sun. Driving back the aborigines of the coun- 
try, the irrepressible whites knew no mercy. 
In addition, iron was found in large quantities 
along the ridges and spurs of the mountains. 
Indeed, the town was built upon an immense 
bed of this valuable metal. Rich mines of 
bituminous coal were also discovered in the 
immediate vicinity. These trade openings at- 
tracted a large number of miners to the region. 
A few capitalists were also forthcoming, so 
that, all in all, the spirit of enterprise began to 
manifest itself in every direction. This pros- 
perity had not continued long until a rival 
town, a few miles distant, began to assert its 


Varied Experiences. 145 

right to recognition. Out of the bog sprang 
Kieptrieste. Falling heir to certain great rail- 
road industries, and projected upon a grand 
scale, the town rose as by magic. It was not 
substantially nor elegantly built, nor yet was 
it a desirable place to reside, but it was a town 
of no mean proportions and of great vitality. 
In proportion as KieptFeste advanced Bridge- 
ton suffered. The mechanics and other labor- 
ers moved thither in large numbers. 

The proposition of Mr. Austin to remove the 
‘‘Argus” to Kieptrieste did not meet with the 
approval of his partner, and was, also, check- 
mated by the opinions of some of the leading 
citizens. To add to this despondent condition 
of things, Austin was evidently doing badly. 
He had, contrary to the wishes of his friend, 
made the acquaintance of some men of fashion 
from Philadelphia, who were in the habit of 
spending the summer months in the mount- 
ains. Unconsciously, almost, he had been led 
to neglect his religious meetings; unconscious- 
ly he was losing moral power. For years he 
had been enthusiastically devoted to religion. 
But the charm was broken. The Sabbath was 
not that sweet day of spiritual rest and refresh- 
ment it had formerly been. It was more a 


146 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

day of pleasure. His readings upon that day 
were more of an intellectual than of a religious 
character. He stood aloof from the friends 
of religion. The secret conclave ” and the 
ceremonies of the ‘‘Order” meetings were 
much more desirable than the fellowship meet- 
ings at the house of the Lord. 

To Ransom this was a deep grief. He knew 
the character of his partner’s early habits and 
tendencies. He knew also what gracious de- 
liverances had been wrought out for him by 
prayer. And now for him to forsake his good 
habits was altogether too trying. Then, he 
was partially responsible for the marriage of 
Austin and his sister, as it was through his in- 
vitation that the visit was made through which 
the first meeting was had. How he turned 
away with scorn from the men — devils incar- 
nate — who were working out the destruction 
of his old college mate ! 

The visits of Ransom and his eldest daugh- 
ter at the home of Austin became much more 
frequent than formerly. The sore trial through 
which I^aura was passing called forth their 
most earnest sympathies. 

“ Laura,” said Byrne, one day, as they were 
seated in the house of the latter, “ Laura, you 


Varied Experiences. 147 

distress me. Something seems to be troub- 
ling you, and I must know what it is. I must 
know the whole of it. Don’t keep any thing 
back.” 

“ Byrne, my health is not perfect by any 
means ; and I am troubled about Theo- 
dore. He is so different from what he once 
was. Really, I didn’t think it was in a man to 
change so much in so short a time.” 

I have noticed a change lately,” said Byrne; 
“and it is causing me sleepless nights. And 
what to do I do not know.” 

“Yes, he keeps such very late hours. And 
while I ought not to say it, perhaps, I will 
say it to you. His love for me is changed. 
Those Mannings and De Groats are ruining 
him. If he would stop now he might recover. 
But, Byrne, if he goes on in this Jine much 
longer there can be no salvation.” 

“What shall be done?” said the brother. 

“Well! he seems infatuated. I believe the 
only way to remedy the evil is for us to move 
away from town. How would that do?” 

“ I hadn’t thought of that, and it would in- 
terfere with our plans greatly; but whatever is 
for the best I will consent to.” 

“ Suppose I propose to him the idea of mov- 


148 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

ing West. That would break up all these 
wicked associations.” 

“ The West will, in time, be the center of 
American influence and power. Thousands 
are looking that way, and the tide from abroad 
is likely to set in from all directions.” 

Well, I have prayed to God to open up 
some way for us to get away from here. There 
are so many doors to vice here that I almost 
shudder to think of it. And then, you know, 
Theodore is so easily led. ” 

“ I am sure I am praying for you. God 
says that in all our ways we should acknowl- 
edge him and he will direct our steps.” 

“ How it is possible for some men to live off 
the hard earnings of others, to rejoice over 
the downfall of their neighbors, to entrap them 
in the net of sin, I cannot understand. And 
how our government can license these dread- 
ful saloons and hotels is truly wonderful.” 

“That is so! But dreadful is not strong 
enough a word. They are horrible! What 
right has one man to take away the money of 
another unless he gives him a true equiva- 
lent. But these beer and whisky men, who are 
too lazy to work for a living, are like so many 
vultures pouncing down upon their prey.” 


Varied Experiences. 149 

* 

** I tell you if we women could have our say 
we would make short work of it. The idea 
of preaching ‘revenue’ to us from licenses! 
Don’t it cost the government ten thousand 
fold more in the course of a year than it gets 
into the treasury?” 

“Yes; and prayer for others seems to do 
but little good when the temptation is thrown 
into the face of them all the time.” 

“ It is perfectly absurd in the government, 
and a constant violation of every law of right 
to the citizen. And these saloon keepers and 
tavern men, the idea of their being classed 
among our respectable people is a little too 
bad. Look at Badger, driving his fast horses, 
and entertaining the great citizens or officers of 
the county I No. Let them till the soil, buy 
and sell lawful goods, get gain as best they 
may in honor, and then we will respect them. 

I must confess that when I get thinking about 
it I get furious.” 

The conversation was interrupted by the en- 
trance of Theodore, who, in his good-humored 
way, told the story of how Tom Manning 
had been fleeced out of a hundred dollars by 
a patent-right agent. 

It was a gloomy day when Theodore Austin 


150 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

and his family took their departure for West- 
ern wilds. He fought the idea for a consider- 
able while, but his wife prevailed. The disso- 
lution of the co-partnership was a hard trial. 
He had yielded under a strong pressure, being 
advised to the change by his father, who had 
lately visited him, and who had been grieved 
at his condition. The sale of his personal 
property had not netted him much, and when 
the debts were all paid he did not have much 
money remaining. He had wakened up to his 
true condition almost too late. It was with 
him as when in sleep one seeks to fly from 
some danger but seems helpless. At last, in a 
prodigious effort at escape, the eyes open and 
the nerves are in a tremor. So he fled for 
safety, and the violence of the effort brought 
him to sanity and salvation. We cannot fol- 
low him through the vicissitudes of his polit- 
ical life in the West, but must say that, as in 
many other instances of deliverance from the 
curse of inebriety, the flight was the early 
step which led to fortune. To this sudden 
change in business affairs must be added the 
great losses endured by Mr. Ransom by the 
flood which deluged the larger part of Bridge- 
ton in the autumn of i8 — , as well as the fire 


Varied Experiences. i 5 1 

by which his beautful home was laid in ashes. 
The outlook was not agreeable. Frank Ran- 
som was a youth in whom the heart of his 
father could confide. He had given such at- 
tention to the cultivation of his mind as put 
him abreast of the young men older than him- 
self. As a partner he became especially help- 
ful. Indeed, he assumed with tact and energy 
the entire business during the two terms of his 
father as representative in Congress. He su- 
perintended the rebuilding of his father’s prem- 
ises, cared for the interests of the family, and 
gave a strong impulse to the subscription list 
of the paper. 

Guy Ransom seemed to have his heart upon 
ocean life. It called to the father’s remem- 
brance his own singular taste in early dife, and, 
although opposed in spirit to the plan, he at last 
gave his consent. “ If my son,” he said, “shall 
in any wise help up sailor-life into something 
sweeter and better by an ennobling example, 
or by his words or deeds, he shall go. If God 
uses him for that class of neglected men of the 
deep, then I shall not oppose with my judg- 
ment what has been dictated by my prayers.” 
Guy became a midshipman. The sequel shows 

that in this life there was not simply promo- 
10 


152 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

tion, but such a spirit of devotion to the inter- 
ests of the sailors, that, at three ports at least, 
homes were built for their temporary accom- 
modation and libraries established through 
his instrumentality. 

Oscar Ransom was a black-haired, black- 
eyed, dark-featured lad, into whose sunny face 
it was pleasant to look. He was but six when 
his mother died, and he knew but little of the 
blessings he had obtained through transmis- 
sion. This was the preacher-boy in prospect, 
since the parents in turn had each, by prayer, 
consecrated him to the work of saving souls. 

Fred Ransom, the youngest, completed the 
circle of boys. But how changed was Grass- 
mere ! The new home was cozy and pleasant 
in all of its appointments, and the same spirit 
of harmony pervaded the place as formerly, 
but there were broken links which could only 
be made whole by the reunions of the “ better 
country.” The sweetest voice of all had been 
hushed in death. Still it was home, and the 
visits of friends and of strangers were occa- 
sions of joy and profit. 





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An Episode. 


155 


CHAPTER XL 

AN EPISODE. 

“Turning things to account.” 

D id RIGBY was a notable character in 
Bridgeton society. For many years he 
had been going in and out before the people 
of that ancient borough, claiming to be the 
oldest white citizen in the place. He had a 
good name for telling stories, and usually kept 
in a jolly good humor the crowds at the vari- 
ous taverns where he got his grog. A few of 
his stories were founded on historical data; 
most of them, however, were the creatures of 
his fanciful brain. But these stories had been 
told over and over again until he was willing 
to swear to their correctness night or day, 
Sunday or Monday. 

The one man who was able to trip him 
up in his attenuated “yarns” was Dan Mals- 
ton, a quick-witted, agreeable old fellow, whose 
parents were among the first settlers. They 
had moved to Bridgeton a few months prior to 
the Indian massacre, and were of the company 


156 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


who had been driven to the mountains. His 
Uncle Toby hauled the logs to build Fort 
Fetter, which stood at the north-western ex- 
tremity of the town. He was also present at 
the foundation laying of the little old court- 
house, near the Diamond. It was difficult to 
catch Old Dan, as he was familiarly called, 
napping in any adventure of the early settlers. 

When Did would get into the midst of one 
of his wild, weird stories of the earlier times, 
Malston would be sure to get him into a dead- 
lock before he would *go far, by some fatal 
question he would ask him. Old Uncle -Ben 
was deemed the umpire, and happily reconciled 
the differences. If the whole truth had been 
known, Ben was the most reliable orack of the 
neighborhood, albeit of late his memory had 
failed. He had been in the employ of Nathan- 
iel Ransom’s brother when there were only 
five houses within a radius of that many miles. 

The aforesaid Rigby was the village school- 
master. He had taught at Karson and Black- 
mere and elsewhere throughout the county, 
and had not until of late aspired to one of 
the more important schools of Bridgeton. 
Through the influence of some of his friends, 
and especially by his own glowing statements 


An Episode. 


157 


of his success in this work, he had impressed 
the honorable school board of his competency 
in that direction. “ My talents and my age,” 
he would say, entitle me to one of your 
schools.” He was at this time snugly en- 
sconced at ten dollars per month, with the 
privilege of ‘‘ boarding round.” 

His appearance had made much against 
him. He was a little dried-up fellow, with 
red hair, of a nervous temperament, of sluggish 
speech, and, as the boys put it, “ bare-footed 
on the top of his head and tied his teeth in 
with a string.” 

Now the school board were quite careful of 
the appearance of their teachers ; and, if they 
weren’t so very intelligent, they had to be 
good looking at least. If Rigby had only 
known all the secrets he might have made a 
better impression upon their minds. A pair 
of gold spectacles and a shiny wig might have 
helped his cause. Of his intellectual capabil- 
ities it was hard to pass upon. A smattering 
of information he had, and, as he was wont to 
say, ‘‘ Never was there a master who had such 
a passion for governing children like I have.” 

It is due the Bridgeton boys and girls to 
say that it was difficult to find out just ex- 


158 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

actly what the old man meant when he tried 
to explain things out of the books. As to his 
claim for governing, there was nothing in it. 
He was an old bachelor, and knew about as 
much of controlling the young as a Hottentot 
knows of teaching morals. His habits were 
not of the best order. When he would be out 
at the apple wagons the boys would lift up his 
desk lid to see the long line of old tobacco 
quids which had been chewed over and over 
again and now put out to dry. They at times 
found also a flask of old rye underneath a pile 
of books. Taking it all in all, if it had not 
been for the little bread and butter in the bus- 
iness Rigby had never become famous, nor the 
Bridgeton boys chargeable with so much evil. 
There was one feature of the old schoolmas- 
ter’s character, however, which ought not to 
be passed in silence, namely, his love for, and 
his power in, handling the rod. Here he was 
a general. None had any respect for his 
authority until it was enforced by the use of 
the rod. At the beginning of each term the 
boys and girls agreed among themselves that 
they would never cross him in one of his 
gloomy moods. They knew full well that 
if they ever got him thoroughly aroused he 


An Episode. 159 

would commence at the head of the class 
and whip every one, boys and girls, in order 
to get the guilty party. “ I’ll get the right 
fellow, that I will,” was his usual reply to mis- 
chief. 

The old school-house was a renowned place. 
Here had flourished, each in their turn, many 
knights of the ferrule and rod, as well as some 
real disciples of learning. There was the ec- 
centric and cunning wag of a master, Heze- 
kiah Mickle, who always held stiff reins, and 
was a sort of prophet withal. The first of 
those who bore rule in the town school was 
known alone in memory. His grave upon the 
brow of the hill near at hand was unmarked 
except by a common stone, and the cows of 
the neighborhood wandered over it every day. 
Rude neglect was all the reward he seemed to 
have. 

Then came Horace O’Kelly. Fresh from 
ould Ireland, his claim to scientific knowledge 
was great, but hardly substantiated by facts. 
Some of his expositions of the Scriptures at 
morning reading were models in their way (?). 
His words of blarney generally carried him 
through, though, and he was regarded as a 
clever fellow until he left the town one night 


i6o Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

owing all the shop-keepers who had given him 
credit. 

Next came the sweet-spirited Jones, the 
bachelor Hughes, the witty Thomas, the schol- 
arly Radnor, all with distinctive characteris- 
tics and years of effort. 

To sketch the lives and doings of many of 
the boys and girls who at times were pupils, 
and, perchance, got their first inspiration for 
knowledge within those old walls, would be a 
pleasant task. The reminiscences of the old 
place were delightful. As much might also 
be said of its surroundings. Nature had come 
to the rescue, and had done for it what the 
careless citizens had left undone. A tiny 
stream flowed near by, dancing onward in the 
sunlight. Beyond the narrow bridge which 
spanned it there was a beautiful bluff covered 
with shrubbery and evergreens, which with 
its dog-wood trees, gave it in autumn its 
brightest touches. Then there was the dusty 
old turnpike leading to Blackmere, with its 
Conestoga wagons and jolly teamsters. 

In this quiet place, and under the tutorship 
of Did Rigby, the Ransom children had 
either been, or were now being, educated. It 
was not much of a school, at all events, but the 


An Episode. 


i6i 


best that could be had under existing circum- 
stances. A large class of young ladies had 
been formed at the commencement of Rigby’s 
administration, some of whom were in and 
others had turned their “ teens.” They were 
a little unmanageable. Nan Ransom was one 
of the number. None of the young misses 
could bear their tutor, which seemed wicked. 
“ But he is so sickening,” Nan would say. 
“ What on earth does he mean, anyhow, try- 
ing to make love to us? I despise it, and un- 
less there is a change, and that soon, there’ll 
be a rupture here. The old, rickety genius is 
almost ready for the grave, and as ugly and as 
proud as Lucifer. What does he mean ? ” 

Matters got worse and worse. The girls de- 
termined that they would leave the school in- 
stanter. Accordingly, at recess of a Friday 
morning the ten young ladies packed up their 
books and slates and marched out of the 
school-house without saying a word. A little 
note lying upon the teacher’s desk was the 
only explanation given. It read as follows : 

“ Mr. D. Rigby : 

“ Sir : We have resolved to leave your 
school in a body this afternoon. Our reasons 


1 62 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

for so doing are two : first, we are convinced, 
by long observation, that you are wholly in- 
competent as a teacher ; and, secondly, your 
conduct toward us has become unbearable. 
No words of yours can gain our respect.” 

This curt epistle was signed by the girls. 
When the old man wiped off his spectacles 
and read the paper he was dumbfounded. 
The silence of the girls, and, above all, their 
eyes flashing fire as they passed out of the 
door, spake forcibly of their determination. 
The deed was done, and it was beyond recall. 
He rose from his chair, the meanwhile his 
cheeks becoming crimson and white, walked 
to the stove, and thrust the incendiary docu- 
ment into the fire. For the boys it was a 
huge joke. They were privy to the transac- 
tion, and were meditating the same thing. 
But, deeming discretion the better part of 
valor, and not wishing to fire the ire of the 
teacher any more, they maintained a respect- 
ful and dignified silence, amusing themselves 
with side glances at one another as his back 
was turned toward them. 

“ What can be done ? ” muttered Rigby 
after school was dismissed. “ This is, no 


An Episode. 


163 

doubt, the winding up of my career here. 
And just got fairly started, too ! This is 
dreadful, dreadful ! These girls are out of the 
best families in town, and in less than one 
hour the news will be all over the place. 
What shall be done ? ” 

The news of the girls having left was, as 
their teacher supposed, soon noised abroad. 
It created somewhat of a sensation. It was a 
bold move, and without precedent. 

“ Nannie,” said Mr. Ransom at the tea-table, 
** what is this I hear about your leaving 
school ? I saw your whole class pass the of- 
fice early this afternoon, and you seemed ex- 
cited and were talking loud. What is the 
matter ? ” 

Well, papa, we were excited. We came 
down upon our teacher, it may be, a little too 
hard ; but then he is such a consummate dunce 
that we couldn’t stand it any longer, and we, 
every one of us, quit school.” 

Quit the school ? ” 

“ Yes, papa, we did. We bore the matter as 
long as we could, and without complaint. But 
Mr. Rigby is so conceited and so vain and so 
overbearing that we couldn’t stand it a day 
longer. Why, papa, the old dunce actually 


164 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

tried to make love to one of the girls. We just 
met together last week and resolved that if he 
gave us just one more provocation we would 
leave in a body. So yesterday he tried to kiss 
Marne Haskill, and to-day we did leave. We 
were all very sorry to do it, but how could we 
do any other way and preserve our self-re- 
spect ? ” 

“ O, you were too hasty, Nan. I know the 
old man has a great many singular ways, but 
young people ought to look over some things. 
And as to his advances, the better plan would 
have been to give information to the school 
directors. But by acting in this way you give 
him no chance to improve.” 

“ Papa, the girls were all a unit, and they said 
the School Board knew he was incompetent 
when they employed him. They removed 
Mr. Pomeroy, a most excellent teacher, just to 
gratify the old man’s vanity and to please his 
old friend, Mr. Morrison, who recommended 
him.” 

“ Daughter, I’m really distressed about this 
matter. You know that I am a member of 
the Board, and to think that my own child 
should be mixed up in the matter is too bad.” 

“ Mr. Thoburn’s daughters are in it, and he 


An Episode. 165 

is president of the Board. Nel Thoburn wrote 
the note.” 

Note ? What note ? Did you write a 
note ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Was there any impertinence in it ? ” 

“ No, sir. We just told him that we thought 
him incapable of teaching such a school, and 
that his conduct toward us was unbearable. 
That’s all.” 

“ Why, dear, did you sign that paper ? 
Don’t you think the girls would return ? ” 

“ I am afraid they will not. They are all 
very determined.” 

A sharp rap at the door interrupted the 
conversation. 

“ Good evening, Mr. Rigby.” 

Good evening, sir.” 

** A pleasant evening, sir.” 

“ Quite pleasant.” 

How are you pleased with Bridgeton ? ” 

** Very well, sir.” 

“ And with your school ? ” 

** Only tolerably well, sir. We had a little 
rupture there to-day. Several of the young 
ladies deliberately took up their books and 
walked out of the room.” 


i66 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


So I have learned. I am sorry you have 
gotten into a tangle. But how did it hap- 
pen ? ” 

“ The story is almost too long to go over 
entirely. But the girls were too fast and too 
headstrong.” 

“ Do you have an idea that they are in real 
earnest in this matter ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, indeed. The letter indicated that.” 

“ Don’t you think we could dissuade them 
from their course ? ” 

Perhaps so.” 

They have all attained that age when it is 
impossible to use any thing but moral suasion 
with them, and if they are bent on the matter 
I suppose we shall have to make the most of 
it. It’s bad enough at all events — bad for 
the town, bad for the teacher, bad for the 
girls.” 

‘‘That’s just what I think, Mr. Ransom.” 

An hour or more was spent in endeavoring 
to light upon a plan by which the breach 
might be healed. When Mr. Rigby went 
home it was with the foreshadowing that “ his 
days were numbered.” 

No persuasion could move the purpose of 
the girls. They declared that it was “ no 


An Episode. 167 

school at all for them unless they had another 
teacher.” 

The School Board at its next meeting, find- 
ing still further trouble brewing, and fearing a 
similar outbreak among the boys, resolved to 
continue Mr. Rigby only until the end of the 
term, and adopted measures immediately for 
the building of a new school-house and a pros- 
pective change of teachers. 

In the mean time the fruitful brain of Mr. 
Ransom had projected and carried forward a 
new plan of education. He resigned his posi- 
tion on the Board with a view of organizing, if 
possible, a school of a higher and better grade. 
He led off in a strong subscription for the 
erection of a building in the southern part of 
the town, to be known as the “ Bridgeton Male 
and Female Institute.” 

The citizens rallied to the enterprise. A 
good corps of teachers was employed, the 
surrounding towns sent a number of pupils, 
and the whole project became an eminent suc- 
cess. The unpleasantness at the old school- 
house, instead of being an unmixed evil, re- 
sulted in the founding of one of the best insti- 
tutions of learning in all the region traversed' 
by the Juniata. It stands to-day a memorial 
11 


i68 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

of the wise foresight and thoughtful consecra- 
tion of Mr. Byrne Ransom. Year after year 
classes varying from ten to thirty are gradu- 
ated as scholars and enter the ranks of the 
brain-workers of the age. The benign influ- 
ence of the Institute on the town through all 
the widening future cannot be calculated ; but 
on such noble educational institutions as this 
the strength of our country largely depends. 


The attempt 


Is all the wedge that splits its knotty way 
Betwixt the possible and the impossible.” 


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Difficult Achievements. 171 


CHAPTER XII. 


DIFFICULT ACHIEVEMENTS. 


“ The attempt 


Is all the wedge that splits its knotty way 
Betwixt the possible and the impossible.” 

HE manufacturing enterprises at Bridge- 



J- ton, of which mention ha.% been made, 
had drawn thither a large number of foreigners 
from England, Ireland, and Germany. Among 
the motley crowds which were quartered in 
the tenement houses along the “ basin ” were 
a number of rude and ignorant Romanists. 
The worship of Mary, the worship of the 
saints, the requirements of the confessional, 
and the tyranny of the priesthood were all 
well-known factors in their religion and mat- 
ters of ridicule and detestation by Protestants. 
Politically, Mr. Ransom had hitherto wielded 
a strong influence over these ignorant and 
self-conceited voters. The clear-headed opin- 
ions which he was ever free to proclaim were 
not without weight in causing many to cast 
away their foreign notions, to change their 


172 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

political sentiments, and to become more 
closely and heartily identified with American 
institutions. Many of these foreigners were 
in the habit of sending their sons and daugh- 
ters to the public schools, notwithstanding the 
violent protests of the Catholic clergy. What- 
ever of influence Mr. Ransom possessed he de- 
termined should be used in the effort to make 
these parties independent thinkers in matters 
of religion and personal duty. 

From boyhood he had been connected with 
a Protestant Church, and had been nurtured 
under its gracious influences. He owed much 
to the power of Christian sympathy which was 
ever manifested by his people ; much to the 
social means of grace to which he had been so 
closely attached ; much to his own matured 
experience in grace, covering many years of 
his life. Love and duty were thrilling words, 
hope in Christ for guilty men a joyous watch- 
word. 

The work of directing the Catholic mind 
into a new channel of influences presented 
indeed many barriers. The prejudices of Ro- 
manists against all forms of faith except their 
own were so deeply seated as to prevent a 
beginning. Then the ear at the confessional 


Difficult Achievements. 173 

was so open and ready to receive any news 
through the servant-girls concerning work ac- 
complished in this line, that the way was oft- 
times shut up to further efforts. 

Further than this, the current sentiment of 
his own Church held that little could be done 
in bringing to a corrector faith those whose 
minds had been so long perverted. Hope 
seemed to be greatly deferred. Still he rea- 
soned with himself, Nothing ventured noth- 
ing won.’ Shall I sit down in blissful ease 
and deny the choicest privileges of spiritual 
joy and power to my fellow-citizens simply 
from fear of failure ? Shall I not make the 
effort at least to lead this people into the 
purer experiences of grace, by which they 
shall know Christ in the fullest remission of 
sins and the ever-abiding prospects of the 
great hereafter? Nay! Shall I not seek to 
indoctrinate them in the will of God by put- 
ting into their hands the holy Scriptures. 
These shall make them wise unto salvation. 
Light is the one great necessity of the Roman 
Catholic mind. Under the teachings of God’s 
holy Word that large and increasing element 
in American society, instead of becoming a 
hinderance to true progress, may become a 


1/4 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

vigorous help. Patience and perseverance are 
requisite to success.” 

The timidity of the membership of his 
Church in this line of Christian effort made 
nothing against Ransom’s patient and prayer- 
ful methods. He soon found that the Cath- 
olic mind was far from being an invulnerable 
thing. He found that sympathy and love 
were competent in winning many a battle. 
That a quiet, judicious laying of plans, fol- 
lowed by a distribution of Bibles among the 
people as well as kind words in reference to 
personal consecration, gave him special power. 
If those efforts had been simply to proselytize 
the people to his own Church he might not 
have succeeded so well. But he sought rather 
that they should learn to reverence the Book 
of books as they did the crucifix, and that 
they might learn the beautiful doctrine that 
Jesus is the sinner’s only but all-sufficient 
Friend. To accomplish this would bring a tri- 
umph truly golden. 

Love led the way — love, a sun against 
whose melting beams the winter cannot 
stand.” Many became greatly enamored with 
the Word, and were able to testify that they 
trusted Jesus implicitly, without the interven- 


Difficult Achievements. 175 

tion of Mary,” or any of the “ saints.” Oth- 
ers, rejoicing in their release from the oppres- 
sion of the “ priestcraft,” changed their Church 
relations, thanked God, and took fresh cour- 
age. 

It was one of those peevish days in the late 
autumn, when nature gets void of beauty, and 
one desires to shut himself up in the quiet of 
his own home-life, that a loud rap was heard 
at the door of the office of the Bridgeton Ar- 
gus.” In an instant, without any permission 
to enter, a burly, red-eyed, red-nosed, shab- 
bily-dressed fellow came pushing his way into 
the presence of Editor Ransom. 

“ Hon. Ransom, I believe,” he blurted out. 

“ My name is Ransom,” was the reply. 

“ Do you mind me ? ” 

No, sir, I believe not.” 

Don’t you mind Buster Mason ? Many’s 
the time we joked and played together around 
this y’ere old burg.” 

“ Sylvester Mason, do you mean ? Sylves- 
ter Mason ? ” 

Yes, I’m the very fellow you’re thinking 
about.” 

Well, well, is that really you ? But you 
have greatly changed, my friend. What is the 


176 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

matter? You look so old ; getting gray, too. 
Sit down, and tell me something about your 
life since last we met. I was thinking about 
you last week. I wondered what had become 
of you, and so here you are.” 

“Well, I’m glad every body has not forgot- 
ten a fellow. I’ve not been in this ‘neck-o’- 
timber’ now for going on twenty-five years. 
I just got in town to-day, and found I was a 
teetotal stranger. It didn’t used to be so.” 

“ No, things change ; men change, too.” 

“ That’s so. I picked up a paper this after- 
noon down at the Fountain Inn, and I looked 
at it and found it was printed by Byrne Ran- 
som. You print it, don’t you ?” 

“ Yes, sir,” 

“ Wa’ll, I thought so. And what I was 
agoin’ to say was this : The ole chap what 
tends bar down there sed you was the same 
man what lived here a good many years ago. 
He said you had got to be a mighty high and 
lar’nt man ’bout here. Bin to Legislatur and 
Congress, and I dunno what all he didn’t say. 
I thot I’d come in and scrape up the old ac- 
quaintance. No harm dun, I reckon?” 

“ Not at all, not at all. But where do you 
hail from ? I am always glad to see my old 


Difficult Achievements. 177 

friends. But I should not have known you at 
all, Mason, unless you had made yourself 
known.” 

“No? The fact is, I don’t hail from no- 
whar in partic’lar. Bin trav’lin round from 
place to place, sometimes here, sometimes 
there, sometimes nowhar. You know I never 
larnt any trade but that of drinkin’ whisky. 
And I have kep’ it up all along. I can guzzle 
down more ole rye than any man can pay 
fur unless he’s got a pocket-book like ole 
Girard.” 

“ Are you married. Mason ? ” 

“ Yes, kind o’.” 

“ Where is your wife ? ” 

“ Polly died five years ago. She died in the 
poor-house out West. As nice an ole woman 
as the Lord ever made. It’s all my fault, 
though, all my fault.” 

“ Any young children ? Where are they ? ” 
“ I don’t know. I could curse the day 
when I was born into this y’ere world, and I 
do curse it near every day. But cursin’ don’t 
seem to make things any better.” 

“ Of course it don’t make things any better. 
It makes them worse. Mason, you must re- 
form.’» 


178 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

“Ha, ha, reform! That’s a good way to 
talk to an ole fellow like myself. Can’t get 
down to that.” 

“Yes, you can get down to that. And 
what is more, you must get down to it or 
go to eternal ruin. There is help for even 
you.” 

“Help for me? Never! There’s no help 
for me.” 

“ Here the voice of Mason began to waver, 
and he showed signs of breaking down alto- 
gether, but he rallied and continued : 

“ Kind sir, I orter turned that new leaf 
when you did. I mind all about it. I’m the 
man you saw in your dream ; I’m the man. 
It don’t seem long since that time ; but what 
a life I’ve had ! If I thought it wasn’t too late 
I believe Td turn round and try to do bet- 
ter yet.” 

“ It is not too late, my friend. Not too late 
at all. I was just about saying there’s mercy 
for the worst. If so, there must be mercy for 
you.” 

“ Do yer think you could do any thing for 
a feller so low as me ? ” 

“ I cannot do much, but God and you can. 
You can do a good deal. Your passion for strong 


Difficult Achievements. 


170 


drink isn’t in your blood ; it’s in your heart’s 
desire. If you want to reform you can re- 
form. To do so, remember, is no child’s play. 
You must nerve yourself for a long and strong 
battle. The first thing you must do is to sign 
the total abstinence pledge. Then you must 
stop associating with men who drink. You 
must keep out of the tavern and away from 
the saloon. You must shun the bartender as 
you would the devil. You must preach total 
abstinence to others and get the idea firmly 
fixed in your soul that drinking whisky is a 
great crime, and the constant use of it creates 
a diseased thirst. Do you think you can do 
all that ? ” 

“ I dunno. Do yer think that would save a 
feller ? ” 

“ No, I do not think that would save you. 
You must try prayer. You must tell God the 
whole story of your life. Make a clean breast 
of every thing, and keep on praying until you 
feel you are saved.” 

Mercy ! I can’t do all that ! Me pray ? 
Haven’t thought of such a thing since I was a 
little boy. My mother larnt me, ‘ Now I lay 
me down to sleep ;’ but I didn’t get any fur- 
ther.” 


i8o Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

“ That is no matter. It is not too late to 
begin. God will hear you, however broken 
and lame your words are. Desire is prayer. 
Your life is too good a thing to throw away in 
this manner. Let us try and save it. Strong 
drink will be like a wild beast. It will be like 
a fire in the bones. You will be driven from 
post to pillar by your thirst. Your old com- 
rades will try to get you back again to your 
old seat in the tavern. Your only hope is in 
flight and prayer. Now, my brother, for one 
long, bold, and determined strike for liberty ! 
Will you try it?” 

Wall, I’d ’most give the thing up long 
ago, but if you think I can git all right agin, 
I’ll try it.” 

Here the conversation ended. Business 
duties called Mr. Ransom away, but with the 
promise of having another talk over the mat- 
ter. The subject kept simmering in the minds 
of both day after day. At the third interview 
Mason made a definite promise to begin the 
work of reformation at once. But the giant 
within him was not to be slain so easily. The 
details of that honest fight are painful. How 
often he surrendered to his low desires ! How 
often his boon companions dragged him down 


Difficult Achievements. i8i 

again into the ditch ! How often even prayer 
seemed unavailing ! But the victory came at 
length. It was full and complete. From the 
low, vulgar, drunken tramp there came forth 
a man clothed and in his right mind. God 
and a prayerful effort would not succumb to 
even the fires of a desperate, deep-seated ap- 
petite. 

Once launched upon the sea of positive 
Christian effort, this business layman could not 
bear to oar about the coast, but was anxious 
to get out into the deep of God’s great pur- 
poses. This was a venture which could bring 
no disaster. 

Weary with the monotony of the Sunday- 
school merely as an officer, he went down into 
the lower walks where men live to sin, and out- 
lined his plans ; thence into the higher walks, 
where he found much to engage his thought 
and patience. The lads of many of the fami- 
lies seemed to be going down into ruin on a 
gallop. Casting aside parental influences, the 
drinking saloon became a favorite resort, the 
house of the strange woman another. Our 
Christian editor consulted with his pastor fre- 
quently upon the possibilities of saving the 
youth of Bridgeton. He received much en- 


1 82 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

couragement, for the pastor was deeply inter- 
ested in the work. 

In a central location, in Alleghany-street, 
he erected a neat frame building, and fitted it 
up with taste for the purpose of organizing a 
Youths’ Brotherhood. At first the boys were 
shy of the place and gave it a respectful let- 
ting-alone. But the interesting books and pa- 
pers, the innocent games and pleasant chit- 
chat, soon won every heart. 

Poor Mason, now saved, became president 
of the Brotherhood, and a right royal leader 
he was. Some of the prominent gentlemen 
of the various Churches were frequently called 
upon to give short talks on “ How to do Busi- 
ness;” “Choice of a Pursuit;” “Qualifications 
for Business;” “Elements of Success;” “Agri- 
culture;” “The Main Question in Living;” 
etc., etc. The pastors of the town often held 
short public conversations on subjects related 
to right living. An occasional entertainment 
with refreshments served to endear the place 
to all. The whole plan was so practical, and 
was worked so admirably, that the “ Brother- 
hood ” became a source of great blessing and 
power in the community. It required some 
money and patience and time, but the bread 


Difficult Achievements. 183 

“ cast upon the waters ” was gathered after 
many days.” 

Other schemes of beneficence were projected 
— schemes which only a truth-inspired, love- 
inflamed, Spirit-guided Christian experience 
could mature. Money was loaned upon good 
security, without interest, to certain poor 
struggling mechanics and day-laborers, which 
put them on the road to prosperity. Orphans 
were sought out and provided with homes ; 
widows were aided in their desperate efforts 
at “ getting on ” in the world and trying to 
save their little homes. 

During Mr. Ransom’s Congressional career 
a beautiful incident occurred, which ought not 
to go unmentioned. The Hon. Preston Bar- 
rows, from Alabama, had an only daughter who 
had become an actress. She had changed her 
name to Monema Harland, but was known at 
Washington as the daughter of Mr. Barrows. 
Her life was out of harmony with the opinions 
of her parents, albeit they may have been 
blamed for want of firmness in not forbidding 
her the early steps. They had looked with 
much pride upon their daughter when, in the 
character of some English lady or belle of soci- 
ety, she acted her part in the monthly comedy, 


1 84 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

farce or other operatic play of the amateur 
club of Tuscaloosa. But since the stage had 
become so attractive, and had stolen from them 
their only daughter, no burning, sarcastic 
words could express their contempt for its 
amusements or its associations. Miss Barrows 
had utterly discarded the Church of her 
mother, cared for nothing save the pleasures 
and gayeties of fashionable life, and deemed 
religion a dull and juiceless thing. 

Messrs. Barrows and Ransom were intimate 
friends, and boarded with a lady by the name 
of Sauren. A certain Mr. and Mrs. Goman 
were boarders at the same house. Mrs. Goman 
was a woman of gifts. She had a few merito- 
rious traits of character, and was even a mem- 
ber of a Christian Church, but was such a 
chronic grumbler that her Christian influence 
was very slight. Her husband never concerned 
himself about religion, and had imbibed the 
notion that it wasn’t exactly such a good thing 
as some people said it was. “ At least,” he 
would say, “ it hasn’t revolutionized my wife’s 
nature by a long shot. She is as fond of dress 
and going to parties as she ever was, and as 
for fault-finding — saying damaging things 
about the minister and the members — she is 


Difficult Achievements. 185 

as good at those things as any outsider I ever 
saw.” 

But there were elements in the character of 
Mrs. Goman which, if brought into exercise, 
might be made exceedingly useful. 

“ Miss Barrows must be rescued,” said Ran- 
som, “ and Mrs. Goman can rescue her if she 
will.” 

He approached her through her husband. 
The nature of Miss Barrows’ life was made 
fully known to him, as well as the purpose to 
strike for her recovery. Mr. Goman was a 
man of keen and noble impulses, and at once 
joined heartily in the proposition. He agreed 
to talk with his wife upon the subject, and 
would do whatever was within his reach to 
second her efforts. 

Mrs. Goman was, at first, quite unready to 
begin the work. She thought it a little be- 
neath her dignity, and a kind of compromise 
of her womanhood. But she remembered her 
husband’s burning criticism about religion 
“ not being worth much, except to sit in a 
cushioned seat dn church and to hear an elo- 
quent sermon.” A sense of honor to her pro- 
fession of religion urged her to duty. She 
would try. 


1 86 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


“ Miss Harland is not at home,” were the 
pert words of the servant girl at the brown 

stone front on street. “ She is out of 

town.” 

“ Will you please give her this package 
when she returns, with the compliments of 
Mrs. Goman and Mrs. Sauren ? ” said the 
callers. ^ 

“ I will,” and the door closed abruptly. 

“ Well,” said Mrs. Goman, “ that’s a false- 
hood.” 

“ I haven’t the least doubt of it,” replied 
Mrs. Sauren, as the two walked hastily down 
the street. 

“ I wonder if that girl didn’t know us ? I 
think I have met her in the market some- 
times.” 

“ Perhaps she did. She seemed rather con- 
fused.” 

‘‘ Yes, she did, and the manner in which she 
disposed of us was peculiar.” 

“ Quite so.” 

Within the house a strange scene occurred. 
When the servant delivered the package to 
Miss Barrows she went into a private room 
and opened it. It contained a beautiful pho- 
tograph of her childhood home in the South, 


Difficult Achievements. 187 

a lot of toy tea-plates, cups and saucers, a tiny 
looking-glass, a doll, and a few other play- 
things. They were not new to her eyes. They 
were relics of her earlier years. 

“ Mercy ! what does all this mean ? she 
exclaimed, and as she kept unrolling the bun- 
dle a letter dropped out addressed to Miss 
Sophie Barrows, Washington, D. C. She hur- 
riedly broke the seal and read : 

My dear Sister : We are strangers to 
each other now, but I trust we will yet be 
friends. Your present life is a great disap- 
pointment to your parents, and a source of 
very great grief. Since the day you left your 
home in the sunny South they have not ceased 
to pray for you. That sad expression of coun- 
tenance your father wears as he attends to the 
duties of his position has in it a secret mean- 
ing. The smiles which play upon the face of 
your dear mother are forced smiles. Night 
and day her desires are upon you. It is not 
my intention to endeavor to prove how de- 
moralizing the theater is in its several relations 
to society. All I wish to say is, that if you 
abandon your present life and throw your 
heart and influence in favor of Christianity, 


i88 


Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


you will find life to be a very different thing 
to what it is now. The little mementos which 
I send you will remind you of happier hours. 
They call to memory the beautiful and simple 
life of . your girlhood. When surrounded by 
loving associations your happinesses were mul- 
tiplied day by day. 

How changed are things to-day ! Now the 
darkness is over your head. No golden beams 
of heavenly grace enter your souj. Casting 
away the comforts of the Christian hope, you 
cast away all. And yet along the horizon I 
can see the glimmerings of light. God’s great 
remedy for sin is sufficient for all our necessi- 
ties. That remedy is the blood of Jesus. It 
cleanses the foulest. It washes away the 
guilt. It is a portion that is free for all. My 
dear girl, let me recommend to you the loving 
Lord. 

“ I have, inclosed a few pages of tracts, and 
a book entitled * The Blood of the Cross.’ 
Please give them a diligent reading. Write 
me the state of your feelings, and believe me 
in confidence to be 

“ Very truly yours, 

“ Harriet Goman.” 


Difficult Achievements. 189 

“ Pshaw ! ” exclaimed the reader. Such 
nonsense as that ! ” and, with a curl of the 
lip, she tossed the package into a closet, and 
commenced getting ready for the evening 
ball. She must think me a great fool to 
give up all my worldly pleasures and sit down 
as a recluse and sing and pray my life-time 
away. Not I ! " 

Thus the girl mused and muttered. The 
dance that night was, however, not quite so 
enjoyable as usual. The contents of the letter 
were almost forgotten, but those playthings of 
her childhood brought visions of more innocent 
times. 

Mrs. Goman was a woman of great tenacity 
of purpose. She never minced matters, and 
usually went first of all to the main point. She 
believed in being true to the adage which the 
men were always flinging at her sex that — 

“ When a woman will she will, you may depend on’t, 

And if she wont she wont, and that’s the end on’t.” 

During the whole of the winter months she 
thought of but little, in a Christian way, except 
the ransoming of that brilliant young lady. 
And it was not labor lost. 

As with quiet and determined steps she pur- 


igo Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

sued her ; as with clippings of prose and po- 
etry she brought to her attention the necessity 
of an immediate and unconditional surrender 
to truth ; as with conversation and letters and 
the aid of others she grouped about the girl 
the ministries of love, Miss Barrows began to 
show signs of yielding. At last the golden 
hour came. Sophia Barrows quit the stage, 
returned to her father’s home, became the 
pride of her parents, and a good and useful 
Christian. She never knew the fountain-source 
of her recovery, nor did it matter to Mr. Ran- 
som, since the end was gained, and in such a 
worthy manner. The reactionary influences, 
however, upon his friend, Mrs. Goman, in mak- 
ing her a more hopeful and cheery Christian 
and in enlarging the sphere of her acting, all 
of which were part of the original plan in the 
effort to save Miss Barrows, fulfilled in their 
own good time the wise words of the book : 
“ He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing 
precious seed, shall doubtless come again with 
rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.’ 

Oscar Ransom was spending his vacation 
with his father at Washington. He was pas- 
tor of a small congregation in Pittsburgh, and 
was deemed a young man of much promise. 


Difficult Achievements. 19 i 

Oscar’s father thought he had discovered in 
him of late a restlessness in his work which, 
like an entering wedge, might drive him into 
some secular business. The May-day excur- 
sion to Mount Vernon was principally in the 
interests of Oscar’s pleasure. To it were in- 
vited Mr. and Mrs. Barrows and daughter, 
Mr. and Mrs. Goman, the Rev. Dr. Selden, 
and the Hon. Mr. Sloan, chief of the Agricul- 
tural Bureau. 

The day of the excursion was bright and 
golden. The early sunrise, the picturesque 
scenery, the sail upon the Potomac, and the 
brilliant company, made up a most delightful 
occasion. 

Dr. Selden was a versatile scholar, and an 
attractive conversationalist. Oscar Ransom 
was an attentive listener as the doctor, Mr. 
Sloan, and Mr. Ransom discussed the various 
phases of social life, and the relation of the 
Church to the same. When the question nar- 
rowed itself to the responsibilities of public re- 
ligious teachers, he became doubly interested. 

Dr. Selden,” sard Mr. Ransom, what do 
you think is the great want of the American 
pulpit to-day?” 

‘‘ That is a difficult question to answer,” re- 


192 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

plied Dr. Selden. “ From a somewhat extend- 
ed observation, however, I should say what 
we most need is, a divine baptism of courage — 
deeper plowing both in the pulpit and in per- 
sonal contact with men. Goodish preaching 
is not what society needs. Platitudes and 
pretty essays seem much out of order in the 
place where stood a Martin Luther or a John 
Wesley.” 

** I heartily agree with you, doctor,” said 
Mr. Sloan. “ In agriculture you know the best 
crops come not from fields which have had 
scanty touches of the plowshare. Sub-soiling 
is with us a prime necessity. I believe that 
the soil of the heart needs a deep plowshare.” 

To this Dr. Selden said : ‘‘ We are living in 
evil times ! Men do not consider as they 
should their individual accountability. They 
must face the great moral questions of hon- 
esty, sobriety, integrity. They must, indeed, 
be put into harmony with an ‘ undivorceable 
conscience,’ an ‘ unescapable God,’ an ‘ ine- 
rasable past.’” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Ransom, “and the pulpit 
should speak out without fear. We shall sink 
into an awful barbarism unless we have cour- 
age somewhere.” 


Difficult Achievements. 193 

** I believe,” returned Dr. Selden, that the 
Sunday words from the pulpit should make 
men pay their honest debts on Monday, and 
stay out of debt on Tuesday, and, for that 
matter, every other day. Those words should 
make a true yard-stick and a full measure. 
They should make men respect their promise 
as they do an oath ; bear the scoffs and jeers 
of others ; bear honest burdens for the Church 
with readiness of spirit ; make them liberal 
with their money; make them better husbands, 
fathers, citizens.” 

I am beginning,” said Mr. Sloan, to look 
with alarm upon the manner in which profess- 
edly Christian lawyers will advocate causes 
which they know to be wrong, and will present 
licenses to the courts for the privilege of selling 
strong drink ! I am also alarmed when I see 
professedly Christian physicians -who will rec- 
ommend the use of alcoholic stimulants, and 
refuse to identify themselves with certain great 
movements looking to the abolition of in- 
temperance ! I am amazed to see how easily 
mechanics who are members of the Church 
can be persuaded to work on the Lord’s day 
on the plea that they will be discharged by 
the corporations ! ” 


194 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

*^The truth,” said Dr. Selden, “is no doubt 
the great conserving power. I have great 
faith in it. It is the only thing that can revo- 
lutionize society.” 

“ Those fields yonder, gentlemen,” added 
Mr. Sloan, “ teach us something. Nature is 
never whimsical. The farmer never gets into 
difficulty in the use of grain. Wheat must 
produce wheat, and corn, corn. And so the 
living word from the lips of the living teacher 
is the God-ordained means of saving sinful 
men.” 

“ Exactly so,” replied Dr. Selden. “ The 
stalk formation illustrates getting strength to 
withstand evil ; casting the roots downward to 
gather richness from divine grace. The blade 
teaches us to exercise in generous doing — giv- 
ing liberally to God — reading the holy Script- 
ures, and suffering patiently for doing well. 
The full corn represents that symmetrical and 
well-rounded life which we often see in the 
Church. These come from good seed-sowing.” 

Mrs. Goman, who had become interested in 
the conversation, said pleasantly: “Yes, gen- 
tlemen, and God always pays his servants well 
for any good they may do. Every word spok- 
en to enforce the Saviour’s teachings; every 


Difficult Achievements. 195 

effort to cheer the despondent ; every hymn 
sung or prayer offered at the bedside of the 
dying ; every effort to bless children ; every 
venture in Christian literature ; every kind act 
to the poor, or word or smile or deed done 
for Jesus’ sake, will have its reward. Beyond 
the deeper plowing and the better sowing are 
the white fields of eternity’s harvest.” 

When the party landed at Washington Os- 
car Ransom said to his father, “ Father, I am 
greatly indebted to you for this trip. And, 
although I did not feel at liberty to enter into 
the conversation on the way up the river, I 
must say it seemed very opportune, for, I con- 
fess, I have had some severe temptations late- 
ly. I think I can trust myself in the line of 
teaching truth till I die. I want you to pray 
for me, that I may be more faithful in my 
work.” 




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The Capstone. 


199 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE CAPSTONE. 


Trusting in Christ is wealth and power and happiness.” 



HEN the war for the preservation of 


V V the Union broke out Mr. Ransom had 
reached a ripe old age ; nevertheless physically 
he was vigorous. 

America, in her history, growth, and free 
institutions, had been to him ever a study and 
a delight. Her native resources, prolific soil, 
varied climate, ambitious and toiling people, 
had long been the envy of other lands. The 
genius of her laws and civilization was felt to 
be the harbinger of more splendid triumphs. 

The flag to him was a symbol of freedom 
and equality. The blue field, with its beauti- 
ful constellation, was but the counterpart of 
the beautiful heavens above ; and the stripes, 
alternate red and white, the exponent of a 
blood-bought motto, “ Many in one.” 

During Calhoun’s time in the national Con- 
gress he had stood against the pestilent dog- 
ma of State Rights,” as interpreted by that 


13 


200 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 


bold Fire-eater. He had pleaded eloquently 
for the repeal of th.e Missouri Compromise. 
He had predicted evil to the country unless 
there should come a great change in Southern 
sentiment. He had advocated prudence and 
temperance in the discussion of the great 
questions. 

His editorials and speeches were of a tem- 
perate and thoroughly loyal type. He de- 
manded the salvation of the Union as a thing 
to be maintained at every hazard. 

“America,” he said, “is the land of a special 
providence. No natural barriers separate these 
States, no political line of hostility must be 
made between them. The people speak a 
common tongue — a tongue destined to be the 
language of the world. No spirit of monarchy 
has ever cursed us ; the genius of our every 
institution points to liberty for all. 

“ If the power of caste is broken our career 
will be one of unexampled prosperity. God 
alone can tell what will be the issue of this 
trouble which is now bursting upon us. The 
South seems to prefer an arbitration by the 
sword. This is dreadful ! We ought to be one 
people; we have a common ancestry, a common 
history, and common laws; and yet between us 


The Capstone. 


201 


is an awful gulf! The South has intrenched 
herself behind a venerable but wicked institu- 
tion. She has challenged the government to 
say whether slavery shall be local or national. 
She is bold and jubilant. Her hour is at hand ! 
The Confederacy, Minerva-like, has sprung in- 
to existence full-armed, of commanding pres- 
ence, and seeking recognition in the family of 
nations. It has organized a congress, issued a 
currency, created an army and navy, and is 
calling its sons to- the rescue. Richmond is 
the center. 

Mr. Lincoln calls for troops to maintain 
the existence of the government originated by 
our fathers. 

When nations appeal to arms for the sake 
of empire, or to simply adjust geographical 
boundaries, or to gratify personal ambitions, 
so that men are driven to the sword and saber, 
as sheep are driven to the shambles, then, 
indeed, is ‘ War the son of Hell, and splendid 
murder.’ 

“ But when men gird themselves in defense 
of their inalienable rights, and unsheathe the 
sword in behalf of their country’s life, then 
good men may march to the field, and God 
will ordain the victory. To die in such a cause 


202 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

as is presented now is real glory, for there are 
* things better than life.’ ” 

Such were the characteristic words of the 
patriotic old man, as at the depot the first sol- 
diers started for the seat of war. Two of his 
own sons, Oscar and Guy, were in that com- 
pany. Too old for this service himself, his in- 
fluence was constantly exerted in the matter 
of enlistments. 

The wound in the national heart was not 
easily stanched. Battle followed battle. Call 
succeeded call. Homes were desolated, for- 
tunes consumed. The unwritten story of those 
bloody battles was of stranded lives, blighted 
hopes, tears, groans, mental and bodily an- 
guish, demoralization, defeat. It seemed as 
if heaven itself had thrust down the goodly 
country, even to complete destruction, so as to 
raise up a better nation. 

It was during the great Peninsular campaign 
in Virginia, when thousands were falling vic- 
tims to disease and death in the Chickahominy 
swamps, that an extraordinary pressure was 
made upon the Christian Commission for help- 
ers. The cry was so sympathetic, and the ap- 
peal so powerful, that Mr. Ransom, old as he 
was, volunteered in the cause. His daughters 


The Capstone. 


203 


were quite unwilling to give their consent. 
They declared “ that the undertaking was too 
hazardous for an old man ; then, too, two boys 
out of the family were already in the service. 
It will be impossible for father to stand the 
work.” 

But duty pointed in that direction, and, 
being possessed of a steadfast purpose, the 
protests were of no avail. 

Soon after his arrival at the seat of opera- 
tions the seven days’ fighting commenced, 
known as the “Battle of the Wilderness.” At 
last the celebrated movement to Harrison’s 
Landing was made by the national troops. 

During the last day of the retreat, while 
bearing supplies to some wounded veterans 
lying upon the field, he was overwhelmed 
with the heat. Sitting down at a spring of 
very cold water he drank freely, and applied 
water to his head. A violent pain seized his 
head in the region of the eyes, and a mysteri- 
ous blindness fell upon him. In this critical 
situation he was borne from the field. The 
physician, upon examination, thought that he 
must lose his sight entirely. In less than a 
fortnight he was totally blind. Colonel Ran- 
som telegraphed his sisters the facts, and stated 


204 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

that he would start homeward as soon as his 
father was able to travel. 

When the train moved into Bridgeton the 
little old depot was filled with people. His 
arrival partook more of the nature of an ova- 
tion than any thing else. His life-long serv- 
ices in the town of his nativity, his interest in 
all classes of people, and his unconquerable 
love of country, had endeared him to all. 
What less could they do than honor his com- 
ing! what less than cheer him even in the 
hour of affliction 1 A kind Providence had 
raised him above the need of poverty, so that 
they could not lend him temporal aid ; but 
good wishes, prayers, and the like were forth- 
coming from all. His children were enthusi- 
astic in their attachment to their father, and 
were walling to sacrifice any personal good for 
his pleasure. 

Have you ever seen of a summer morning 
ominous signs in the heavens ? The sunrise, 
indistinct with its quickening beams, playing 
hide-and-seek with the passing clouds? Nowthe 
storm-girt powers getting the advantage, and 
now the sunlight gleaming through the rifts ? 
Have you seen, then, the clouds dissolved, the 
day radiant with blessing, and the calm, quiet 


The Capstone. 


205 


sunset of the evening ? Such is the story of 
this pure and truthful life — such its morning, 
its noontide, its evening. 

Father Ransom is a jubilant old man. His 
lips are not poisoned nor his temper soured by 
aught that has crossed his path either in the 
early or later hours. Forced into a condition 
of blindness by the violence of his love for 
others, he bewails not his fate nor charges the 
heavenly Father with unwise doing. As he 
sits in his rustic chair he welcomes all who 
visit him, and is often heard to say : 

“ A rugged way 

Sometimes has led me through misfortune’s vales, 

Yet His sure word and grace have been my stay, 

Whose promise never fails. 

In prayer and trust I’ll wait 
On life’s dim threshold; 

Free from doubts and fear.” 

“ Perhaps the generous God,” he says, “ has 
some little gleaning for me to do in the whit- 
ened fields before the evening star. To walk 
this remnant of my way without eyes, and be 
dependent upon others^ for the commonest 
blessings, is no mean affliction. But God 
knows the way I take. I must not follow in 
the wake of the worldling, who curses his bit-^ 


2o6 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

ter fate in the day of trial, and has no loving 
laugh of gratitude in the days of sunshine. I 
must not be as the skeptic, receiving the ills 
of life with a stolid stoicism, and declaring 
that the Disposer of human destinies is both 
whimsical and conscienceless. I must study 
the story of human suffering, the heroes of his- 
tory who have been called on to suffer rather 
than to do the will of God, and who are 
worthy exemplars for me to follow. That 
supreme chapter of suffering, the lifetime of 
the Christ, is peculiarly touching and sublime, 
if I could only meditate upon it aright.” 

Nan Ransom has found her real life-work at 
last. She is the guiding evangel of her dear 
father — a medium of information and blessing. 
She is his constant companion. Although her 
tastes in reading are not altogether in the line 
of her father’s, she gladly surrenders, and en- 
ters upon fields of information which are in- 
teresting and profitable to him. 

The large and varied library at the Bridge- 
ton Institute is brought into requisition, and 
is made the servant of weary hours. Excur- 
sions into the fields and woods are of frequent 
occurrence. Occasional trips to the sea-shore 
are times of unmingled pleasure. 


The Capstone. 


207 


The visits of cultured men and women to 
her father give a wider range of thought and 
desire to her already quick and brilliant imag- 
ination. 

The boys who composed the first “ Brother- 
hood ” are now men, and are agreeable com- 
panions to their old benefactor. Many beau- 
tiful letters reach him from distant towns, and 
some from abroad, where he made many pleas- 
ant acquaintances. These letters are delight- 
ful reading. The writers ever and anon speak 
of their appreciation of certain good they had 
received at the hands of Mr. Ransom ; how 
they had escaped the pitfalls of youth, and 
were led into purity, truth, and salvation. 

But the crown of this well-ordered life! 
What is it ? There is no craving for recogni- 
tion in personal merit. It is not of good 
works as the foundation. Nay, it is rather his 
firm persuasion of Jesus’ love, and the glorious 
prospect which opens up so thrillingly to his 
faith, of eternal blessedness in the bright here- 
after. Grounded as that faith is upon the au- 
thentic and richly inspired Scriptures, he is 
permitted to rest to-day upon the good prom- 
ise that “ Even to hoar age I am thy God or 
that other golden word, “ Lo, I am with you 


2o8 Byrne Ransom’s Building. 

alway, even unto the end of the world.” 
And can any one lay aught against a love- 
elected, faith-inspired child of God ? None. 

The merit of the crucified Saviour is the 
basis of hope, the source of faith, the ground- 
work of love. From such a pinnacle of priv- 
ilege as this the works of God, as seen in 
nature, have been studied with comfort and 
instruction. Men, in his eyes, are not so self- 
ish as many believe them to be, for age has 
but softeneckthe bitterest asperities of life, and 
•increased his charity for all. So, too, the 
“ better country ” draws near, and the outlook 
seems joyous, as with diligent though weary 
feet he treads the distance between the latest 
mile-stones. 


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